WASHINGTON AND HIS COUNTRY 



BEING ' " '"' ' 



IRVING'S LIFE OF WASHINGTON 



gthibgeb for i\t itse of ^t^ools 



WITH INTRODUCTION AND CONTINUATION, GIVING A BRIEF OUTLINE 

OF UNITED STATES HISTORY FROM THE DISCOVERY OF 

AMERICA TO THE END OF THE CIVIL WAR 



BY 



JOHN FISKE 



»t«c 



BOSTON 

PUBLISHED BY GINN & COMPANY 
1887 



.1732 

•^SHiNGTONlANA 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1887, by 

GINN & COMPANY, 
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



By Transfer 
TieaBury Dept, 

SEP 2 3 1936 



J. S. Gushing & Co., Printers, Boston. 



-'> 



^ ' PUBLISHERS' PREFACE. 



f 2- 



It is generally conceded, we believe, that the results of the 
study of history in our schools are very unsatisfactory. The 
pupils neither receive very distinct impressions nor acquire a love 
for the study of history that will lead them in after years to pursue 
the subject further. The attempt to enumerate all the minor 
events of history has obliged editors so to condense their state- 
ments, to keep the books within the proper hmits, as to rob them 
of that easy flow of language so necessary to any work of general 
interest or literary merit. The study thus becomes tedious and 
confusing to the child, who is not able to make a proper distinc- 
tion between important and unimportant events. The present 
book proceeds on an entirely different plan. At the outset, by 
omitting freely the unessential points, room is given for a more 
careful and extended view of the leading facts, interspersed with 
anecdote and biography, the side lights so necessary for an inter- 
esting presentation of a country's history. 

The hfe of Washington, a type of the noblest manhood, the 
central figure in the greatest epoch of our history, will tend 
especially to fix in the reader's mind the important events of 
this period. 

Although this volume is so much abridged, it preserves the 
inimitable language of Irving and retains the vivid interest of the 
original. The work as a whole possesses a wonderful degree 
of unity. It well deserves to be called a Classic History of the 
United States, and to stand, on account of its subject-matter and 
diction, by the side of the other great masterpieces of literature 
in our series of " Classics for Children." 

Constant study of such great classic models will tend to the 

cultivation of a taste for good reading and a ready use of the 

mother tongue. 

GINN & CO. 

November, 1887. 



PUBLISHERS' NOTE. 



Through the courtesy of Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons we are 
allowed the use of Irving's Life of Washington from which to make 
this abridgment. 



PREFATORY NOTE. 



It is some time since my friends, the publishers of this 
book, urged upon me the desirableness of making an abridg- 
ment of Irving's Life of Washington, such as might prove 
useful as a reading-book in schools, and of supplementing the 
story by a brief introduction and continuation presenting the 
most instructive points in the history of the United States, 
from the first settlement of the country by Europeans down to 
the close of the Civil War. In following this suggestion, I have 
not simply abridged Irving's work, but have occasionally inter- 
woven text of my own with his, in view of results that had not 
been reached in his time. I have done this but sparingly, 
however. The introduction and continuation make no pretence 
to completeness, even as outlines. I have sought in them only 
to arrange some of the cardinal events of American history in 
suchwise as to illustrate, in view of what went before it and 
came after it, the significance of Washington's career. 

JOHN FISKE. 

Cambridge, 
March 15, 1887. 



CONTENTS. 



INTRODUCTION. 

DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION OF NORTH AMERICA. 

SECTION PAGE 

1. The Discovery i 

2. French Pioneers 7 

3. The English in Virginia 12 

4. The Dutch in New Netherland 24 

5. The Beginnings of New England 27 

6. The Later Colonies 46 

7. The Struggle between England and France 49 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

1. Before the French War 55 

2. The Great French War . 68 

3. Beginnings of the Revolution < . 130 

4. Preliminary Campaigns of the Revolutionary War . . . 148 

5. First Great Defensive Campaign 207 

6. The Northern Invasion 274 

7. First Great Triumph — Saratoga 298 

8. Americans assume the Offensive 339 

9. The Disasters of 1780 368 

10. Second Great Triumph — Yorktown 421 

11. Return of Peace 484 



CONTINUATION. 

HOW THE UNITED STATES BECAME A NATION. 

1. The Period of Weakness 507 

2. Second War with Great Britain 528 

3. Rise of the Democracy 535 

4. The Slave Power 548 

5. The Civil War . , , , 557 



LIST OF MAPS. 



I. 

2. 

3- 

4- 
5- 
6. 

7- 
8. 

9- 

lO. 

II. 

12. 

13- 

14. 

15- 



TO FACE PAGE 
. 82 



. 159 

• 175 

. 209 

. 227 

Pennsylvania, 247 

. 281 



Braddock's Route, 1755 . 

Boston, with its Environs, 1775 and 1776 

The Invasion of Canada, 1775 . 

Battle of Long Island, Aug. 27, 1776 . 

New York and Vicinity in 1776 

Washington's Campaigns in New Jersey and 

Burgoyne's Campaigns .... 

Battle of the Brandywine, Sept. ii, 1777 

Battle of Germantown, Oct. 4, 1777 

Battle of Monmouth, June 28, 1778 

Battle of Camden, Aug. 16, 1780 

Greene and Cornwallis in the Carolinas, Jan.-April, 1781, 441 

Cornwallis and Lafayette in Virginia, May-July, 1781 . 458 

Washington's March upon Cornwallis, Aug.-Sept., 1781 . 464 

Acquisition of Territory by the United States, i 783-1868, 524 



301 
326 
346 
396 



INTRODUCTION. 

DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION OF NORTH AMERICA, 

§ I. The Discovery. 

The Northmen. — The time when people from the civiHzed 
countries of the Old World first visited the shores of America is 
not positively known. Vague stories have been current of voyages 
to America made long ago by Phoenicians, by Irishmen, by Welsh- 
men ; some persons have thought that our western coast was visited 
by Chinese junks a thousand years before Columbus. It may per- 
haps have been so, but the evidence is very slender, and the 
stories have but little value. The case is quite different, however, 
when we come to the stories about the Northmen. 

The Northmen were people in whom Americans have much 
reason for feeling interested. They were one of the finest and 
strongest races of men ever known in the world, and they were 
the ancestors of most of us. They lived in the countries now 
known as Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, and the adjacent regions 
of northern Germany, and have been called by various names. 
Under the name of Angles, or English, they conquered and settled 
Britain in the fifth century ; under the name of Danes, they partly 
conquered it again in the ninth. At the same time they con- 
quered the northern part of Gaul, where they were known as 
Normans ; and under this name they again invaded England in 
the eleventh century, and formed an aristocracy there, and placed 
their great leader, William the Conqueror, upon the throne which 
his descendant. Queen Victoria, occupies to-day. They were 
skilful and daring sailors. From the innumerable bays and fiords 
which indent the Scandinavian coasts, their bold sea-rovers, known 



2 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

as Vikings, or " men of the bay," sailed forth in their httle ships, 
not much larger than modern yachts, but strongly and neatly built, 
and urged along partly by oars and partly by sails ; and in such 
little craft they visited all the coasts of Europe, disputed with the 
Saracens the supremacy of the Mediterranean, and even ventured 
far out into the trackless ocean, without compass or aught save the 
stars for guides. Thus they settled in the Orkney and Shedand 
Islands, and thence, about the year 874, they made their way to 
Iceland, where they founded a thriving state. In 981 they dis- 
covered Greenland, and planted a colony there, which lasted about 
four hundred years, until it was swept away by the Black Death. 

In the year 1000 Leif Ericsson sailed southwesterly from 
Greenland and landed in a pleasant and well-wooded country, 
which he called Vinland because of its abundance of grapes. 
Other explorers followed him, of whom the most famous was 
Thorfinn Karlsefni. They had fights with the savage natives of 
Vinland, who, from the descriptions, ace supposed to have been 
Eskimos. Trees are scarce in Greenland and Iceland, and voyages 
for timber seem to have been made from time to time to Vinland 
as late as the fourteenth century. But the Northmen had no idea 
that they had found a new world ; they thought Greenland and 
Vinland were appendages of Europe ; they had reached these 
places without crossing a wide ocean; and their voyages along 
these remote coasts attracted no serious attention in Europe, 
though the Pope duly appointed a missionary bishop for Vinland. 
There are many reasons for supposing that Vinland may have been 
some part of the coast of New England, perhaps the region about 
Narragansett and Buzzard's bays; but it is possible that it may 
have lain as far north as Nova Scotia. It is not likely that the 
Northmen made any settlements in Vinland. Where they did 
settle, as in Greenland, they have left abundant remains of ruined 
houses and churches. No such vestiges have been found on the 
coasts of Nova Scotia or New England. The stone building at 
Newport, which has made so much talk, is undoubtedly a wind- 
mill built on the estate of Benedict Arnold, governor of Rhode 
Island, after the pattern of one with which he had been familiar 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 3 

near his old home in England. The inscription on Dighton rock 
is apparently an Indian inscription, similar to those found in 
New Mexico and elsewhere. There is no evidence of the visits of 
the |Nlorthmen to America, except their own Icelandic records ; 
and the truth of these there is no good reason for doubting. 

Columbus. — It was a long time after the year looo before the 
people of Europe turned their attention to distant maritime enter- 
prises. By and by the East India trade became a source of 
wealth to many European cities, especially to such as Genoa, Pisa, 
and Venice, which kept great fleets upon the Mediterranean. The 
Italian cities produced a set of able navigators, who were also men 
of learning and high scientific attainments, and their services were 
often put at the disposal of any government which would furnish 
them with the means of carrying out their bold enterprises. Spain 
and Portugal were very desirous of finding a passage by sea all the 
way to India, so that they might rival the commerce of the Italian 
cities. Portugal took the lead in this work during the fifteenth 
century. Portuguese captains kept venturing farther and farther 
down the west coast of Africa, until at last, in 1497, Vasco de 
Gama rounded the Cape of Good Hope and crossed the Indian 
Ocean to Hindustan. But several years before this it had occurred 
to Columbus that, since the earth is round like a ball, the easiest 
way to get to India would be to strike out boldly to the west, and 
sail straight across the Atlantic Ocean. Learned men had long 
known that the earth is round, but people generally did not be- 
heve it, and it had not occurred to anybody that such a voyage 
would be practicable. People were afraid of going too far out into 
the ocean. A ship which disappears in the offing seems to be go- 
ing down hill ; and many people thought that if they were to get 
too far down hill, they could not get back. Other notions, as 
absurd as this, were entertained, which made people dread the 
" Sea of Darkness," as the Atlantic was often called. Accordingly 
Columbus found it hard to get support for his scheme. At length, 
in 1492, Queen Isabella of Spain fitted out an expedition for him, 
consisting of three Httle vessels, only one of which had a deck. 
Early in October of that year, after a ten weeks' voyage, he discov- 



4 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

ered the islands of San Salvador and Hayti, and returned to Spain 
to tell of his success. 

About fifteen years before this Columbus seems to have visited 
Iceland, and some have supposed that he then heard about the 
voyages of the Northmen, and was thus led to his belief that land 
would be found by sailing west. He may have thus heard about 
Vinland, and may have regarded the tale as confirming his theory. 
That theory, however, was based upon his behef in the rotundity of 
the earth. The best proof that he was not seriously influenced by 
the Norse voyages, even if he had heard of them, is the fact that he 
never used them as an argument. In persuading people to furnish 
money for his enterprise, it has been well said that an ounce of 
Vinland would have been worth a pound of talk about the shape 
of the earth. 

Columbus made three other voyages, in the course of which he 
discovered other islands, and in 1498 sailed along the northern 
coast of South America. He supposed these lands to be a part of 
Asia, and called their swarthy inhabitants Indians, a name which 
will always cling to them, though really they are no more Indians 
than we are Chinese. Columbus made a mistake in calculating the 
circumference of the earth, and got it only about half as great as 
it really is, thus leaving out the Pacific Ocean and the width of the 
American continent. According to this calculation, when he had 
crossed the Atlantic he seemed to have sailed just far enough to 
reach Asia. He died in 1506, without even suspecting that he 
had discovered a New World. 

Cabot and Vespucci. — The example of Columbus was soon 
followed by other skilful and learned navigators. John Cabot and 
his son Sebastian were Venetians in the employ of Henry VII., 
king of England. In 1497 they sailed due west from England to 
Newfoundland and Labrador, and were thus the discoverers of the 
North American continent. Next year the father died, and Sebas- 
tian made another voyage, in which he followed the American 
coast as far south as Florida. 

Amerigo Vespucci was a Florentine in the service of Spain. It 
is not quite certain whether he made his first voyage to America 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 5 

in 1497 or in 1499. It is certain that in the latter year he discov- 
ered Brazil, and followed the coast down to within about a hundred 
miles of the strait of Magellan. People would naturally have sup- 
posed this coast to be that of the great Asiatic peninsula which 
has been known since ancient times as Farther India. But Ves- 
pucci's voyage showed that this was a very different looking coast, 
and that it extended much farther to the south. It was accord- 
ingly supposed that this must be the coast of a new Asiatic penin- 
sula to the eastward of Farther India. In a map made in those 
days Asia is depicted with four great peninsulas jutting southward, 
— first Arabia, then Hindustan, then Farther India, then America. 
It was natural that Vespucci's name should be given to that part 
of the world which he really did discover ; and it was not strange 
that this name, first apphed to the southern part of the New 
World, which for a long time was better known than the northern, 
should by and by get apphed to the whole. Some people have 
talked and written very foolishly about the brave and high-minded 
Vespucci, as if he had laid claim to honor not justly due him, as 
if it were through some fraud of his that the New World came to 
be called America instead of Columbia. But Vespucci was in 
nowise responsible for this ; and it would not have occurred to 
any one at that time to name any country after Columbus, because 
he was not supposed to have discovered a new country, but only 
a new way of getting to an old one. But if the great Genoese 
sailor has not had full justice done him on the map, he will forever 
rank as the most illustrious explorer of all time. His voyage in 
1492 was a scientific triumph of the first order; and in view of its 
historic consequences, it must be called the most important event 
since the birth of Christ. 

Magellan. — The work of discovering the New World was not 
yet completed. The first success of Columbus made Portugal very 
jealous of Spain. The two kingdoms were ready to quarrel over 
their anticipated good fortune, each wishing to get the whole. 
The affair was referred to Pope Alexander VL, who drew an imag- 
inary line through the Atlantic Ocean from north to south, 370 
leagues west of the Azores, and decreed that all heathen lands 



6 - DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

which should be discovered west of this Hne should belong to 
Spain, and all east of it to Portugal. The coast of Brazil happens 
to come east of this line, and thus fell to Portugal, while all the 
rest of America fell to Spain. Portuguese ships, after once cross- 
ing the Indian Ocean, kept sailing farther to the east and into the 
Pacific, until it began to become clear that the coast discovered 
by Vespucci was not the coast of an Asiatic peninsula, but that 
there was water to the west of it ; how much water nobody knew 
or dreamed. In 15 13 Vasco Nunez de Balboa first saw the Pacific 
Ocean from the top of a lofty hill in the isthmus of Darien. He 
naturally called it the South Sea, and it was known by that name 
for a very long time. There now came upon the scene the heroic 
man who finished what Columbus had begun, and showed that 
America was really a New World. This was Ferdinand Magellan, 
a native of Portugal, but engaged in the service of Spain. In 
dividing things between these two kingdoms the Pope had not 
said anything about the opposite side of the globe. Magellan had 
heard of the Molucca islands which might be reached by sailing 
eastward. He was authorized to reach them by sailing westward, 
and thus secure them for Spain. This gave him a chance to 
settle forever the question of the earth's rotundity. As long as 
America was supposed to be Asia, Columbus was thought to have 
settled it. But now it began to look as if America had nothing to 
do with Asia, and there was thus fresh room for doubt, which 
could only be finally cleared away by circumnavigating the globe. 
On this tremendous expedition Magellan started in 15 19 with five 
small vessels. Crossing the Atlantic, he sailed down the coast of 
South America searching for a westerly passage, until he found 
the strait which bears his name. Passing through this, he came 
out upon the ocean whose waves seemed to him so smooth and 
pleasant that he named it Pacific. Now his trials began. As they 
sailed month after month alone on this wide waste of waters, with- 
out seeing trace of land or sail, the courage of many gave out. 
Every day, they thought, showed more clearly that the earth was 
not round, after all, but that their captain was taking them out over 
an endless flat space, away from the world entirely. Their food 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 7 

gave out and their sufferings were dreadful, but they had come so 
far that it was hopeless to turn back, and so, in spite of starvation 
and mutiny, Magellan kept on, and after such a record of endur- 
ance as the world has never seen surpassed, he reached the 
Ladrone islands, and met with traders who had come there by 
sailing eastward from Sumatra. Then Magellan knew that he had 
proved the earth to be round. He was soon after slain in a skir- 
mish with some savages, but Elcano, his lieutenant, took posses- 
sion of the Moluccas and kept on across the Indian Ocean and 
around the Cape of Good Hope, reaching Spain in the autumn of 
1522, with only one of his five ships afloat. 

This wonderful voyage showed the true position of America with 
reference to the rest of the world. But it was a long time before 
much was known about North America, except a few points on 
the Atlantic coast. It is barely a hundred years since our Pacific 
coast was first carefully explored by the famous Captain Cook. It 
is less than a century and a half since the northwestern corner of 
our continent was discovered and taken possession of by the 
Russian navigator Behring. In the sixteenth century the atten- 
tion of the Spaniards was confined to conquering the Indian king- 
doms in Mexico and Peru, to colonizing various parts of South 
America and the West Indies, and to mining for precious metals, 
using the Indians as slaves and treating them with diabolical 
cruelty. Spain was then the strongest nation in the world, but 
France and England were her eager rivals, and neither paid any 
heed to the papal decree which assigned to her the dominion over 
North America. 

§ 2. French Pioneers. 

Cartier and Ribaut. — France was first in the field. King 
Francis I. sent word to the Emperor Charles V. " that since he 
and the king of Portugal had divided the earth between them- 
selves, without giving him a share of it, he should like them to 
show him our father Adam's will, in order to know if he had 
made them his sole heirs." Meanwhile he should feel at perfect 
liberty to seize upon all he could get. The French had already 



8 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

begun to share with the Enghsh in the fisheries which were begun 
upon the banks of Newfoundland immediately after Cabot's 
voyage, and have been kept up ever since. As early as 1506 
fishermen from Brittany discovered and named the island 
of Cape Breton, and began making rude charts of the gulf of 
St. Lawrence. For a century the Newfoundland fisheries were 
almost the only link between the North American coast and 
Europe. In 1524 Francis I. sent the Florentine navigator Ver- 
razzano on a voyage of discovery. Verrazzano entered New York 
harbour and Narragansett bay, and sailed northward along the 
coast as far as the 50th parallel. Ten years later came Jacques 
Cartier, and explored and named the great river St. Lawrence and 
the site of Montreal. Li 1540-43 an unsuccessful attempt was 
made by the Sieur de Roberval, aided by Cartier, to establish a 
French colony in Canada. Then the French became so much 
occupied with their wars of religion that they gave little thought to 
America for the next half-century. During this period, however, 
there was one attempt at colonization which grew directly out of 
the wars of religion. The illustrious Protestant leader Coligny 
conceived the plan of founding a Huguenot state in America, and 
in 1562-64 such a settlement was begun in Florida under the lead 
of Jean Ribaut and Ren^ de Laudonniere ; but in the autumn of 
the latter year it was wiped out in blood by the ferocious Pedro 
Menendez. That Spanish captain landed in Florida and laid the 
foundations of St. Augustine, the oldest town in the United States. 
He then attacked the French colony, took it by surprise, and 
butchered everybody, men, women, and children, some seven hun- 
dred in all ; a very few escaped to the woods, and after various 
adventures made their way back to France. The government of 
Charles IX. was so subservient to Spain that it did not resent this 
atrocious act, although it was perpetrated in time of peace. 
But a private gentleman, named Dominique de Gourgues, who 
does not seem to have been a Huguenot, took it upon him- 
self to avenge his slaughtered countrymen. Having fitted out a 
secret expedition at his own expense and with the aid of a few 
friends, he sailed for Florida, surprised the Spaniards, slew them 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 9 

every one, and returned to France, leaving Florida to its native 
Indians. 

Champlain. — It was not until the religious wars had been 
brought to an end by Henry IV. that the French succeeded in 
planting a colony in America. They now began to be interested 
in the northwestern fur trade as well as in the Newfoundland 
fisheries; and in 1603 the Sieur de Monts obtained permission to 
colonize a vast tract of land extending from New York harbour to 
Cape Breton, and known as Acadie, a name which gradually 
became restricted to the northeastern part of this region. A 
monopoly of the fur trade within these limits was granted by the 
king to a company of which De Monts was the head. The enter- 
prise, so far as De Monts was concerned, was a failure ; but one 
of his companions, Poutrincourt, succeeded in 1607 in establish- 
ing the first permanent French settlement in America at Port 
Royal in Nova Scotia. Another of the party, Samuel de Cham- 
plain, made a settlement at Quebec in the following year, and 
became the founder of Canada. Champlain was one of the most 
remarkable Frenchmen of his day, — a beautiful character, devout 
and high-minded, brave and tender. Like Columbus and Magel- 
lan, like Baker and Livingstone in our own time, he had the scien- 
tific temperament. He was an excellent naturalist, and he has left 
the best descriptions we have of the Indians as they appeared 
before they had been affected by contact with white men. Cham- 
plain explored our northeast coast very minutely, and gave to many 
places the names by which they are still known ; as, for example. 
Mount Desert, which has kept its traditional French pronunciation, 
with the accent on the final syllable. He was the first white man 
to sail on the beautiful lake which now bears his name, and he 
pushed his explorations so far into the interior as to discover lakes 
Ontario and Huron. He was made the first viceroy of Canada, and 
held that position until his death in 1635, by which time the new 
colony had come to be large and flourishing. In 161 1 Jesuit mis- 
sionaries came over to convert the Indians, and laboured to that 
end with wonderful zeal and success. Missions were established as 
far inland as the Huron countrv, and the good priests often dis- 



.10 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

tinguished themselves as brave and intelligent explorers. The fur 
trade began to assume large dimensions, and French rovers formed 
alliances with the Indian tribes in the neighbourhood of the Great 
Lakes. The French usually got on well with the Indians ; they 
knew how to treat them so as to secure their friendship ; they 
intermarried with them, and adopted many of their ways. 

The North American Indians. — Nevertheless in one quarter 
the French offended the Indians, and raised up for themselves a 
powerful enemy who had much to do with their failure to secure a 
permanent foothold in x\merica. In the sixteenth century the 
territory bounded by the -Rocky Mountains, the Great Lakes, the 
Atlantic Ocean, and the Gulf of Mexico, seems to have been occu- 
pied by five varieties or races of Indians. These were, i . in the 
northwest, beyond the Mississippi river, the Dakotahs ; 2. in the 
southwest, the Natchez ; 3. in the south, the MobiHans, comprising 
the Choctaws, Cherokees, Creeks, Seminoles, etc. ; 4. in the north, 
from the Mississippi to the Atlantic coast, the Algonquins ; 5 . in the 
centre of the Atlantic region, the Iroquois. Of these the Algon- 
quins and Iroquois played by far the most important part in the 
development of American history. The Algonquins comprised 
such tribes as the Pequots, Mohegans, Narragansetts, and Wam- 
panoags in New England ; the Delawares, to the south of the 
Susquehanna ; the Shawnees of the Ohio, the Miamis, Pottawato- 
mies, Ojibwas, and Ottawas. Of the Iroquois the most famous 
tribes were the so-called Five Nations, dwelling in central New 
York ; to the south of them were the Susquehannocks ; the Fries 
lived on the southern shore of the lake which bears their name, 
and the northern shore was occupied by a tribe known as the 
Neutral Nation. To the north of these came the Hurons. One 
Iroquois tribe — the Tuscaroras — lay quite apart from the rest, in 
North Carolina; but in 1715 this tribe migrated to New York, 
and joined the famous Iroquois league, which was henceforth 
known as the Six Nations. 

Between the x\lgonquins and the Iroquois were many important 
differences. They differed in their speech, in their modes of 
building their wigwams and fortifying their villages, and in their 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 11 

knowledge of agriculture. The Iroquois were superior to the 
x\lgonquins and looked down upon them with immeasurable con- 
tempt. Of all the Iroquois the bravest in war and most for- 
midable in numbers were the Five Nations, — the Mohawks, 
Oneidas, Onondagas, Cayugas, and Senecas. For ferocious cruelty 
they have scarcely been equalled by any other race of men known 
to history. Their confederated strength made them more than a 
match for all their rivals, and during the seventeenth century they 
became the terror of the whole country, from the Atlantic to the 
Mississippi, and from Canada to North Carolina. In 1649 ^hey 
overwhelmed and nearly destroyed their kindred the Hurons, put- 
ting the Jesuit missionaries to death with frightful tortures ; then 
they exterminated the Neutral Nation. In 1655 they massacred 
most of the Fries, and incorporated the rest among their own 
numbers; and in 1672, after a terrible war of twenty years, they 
effected the ruin of the Susquehannocks. While they were doing 
these things, they were also carrying the firebrand and tomahawk 
among the Algonquins in every direction. They drove the 
Ottawas westward into Michigan, laid waste the country of the 
Illinois, and reduced the Shawnees and Delawares to the condition 
of vassals. There is no telling how far they might have carried 
this career of conquest if the white man had not appeared upon 
the scene. 

It was these formidable Iroquois whom the French at the very 
outset made their enemies. It was natural that Champlain should 
court the friendship of the Algonquin tribes on the St. Lawrence. 
He undertook to defend them against their hereditary foes, and 
accordingly in 1609 he attacked the Mohawks near Ticonderoga 
and won an easy victory over savages who had never before seen 
a white man or heard the report of a musket. But the victory 
was a fatal one for the French. From that time forth the Iroquois 
hated them with implacable hatred, and when the English came, 
these powerful savages entered into alliance with them. Even 
alone the Iroquois were capable of doing enormous damage to the 
Canadian settlements. In 1689 they even attacked Montreal, and 
roasted and devoured their prisoners in full sight of the terror- 



12 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

stricken town. This hostility of the Iroquois kept the French 
away from the Hudson river until it was too late for them to con- 
tend successfully for the mastery of New York. But for this cir- 
cumstance the French might have succeeded in possessing New 
York, and thus separating the New England colonies from those in 
the south. 

§ 3. The English in Virginia. 

Sir Walter Raleigh. — As John Cabot had discovered the North 
American continent for the EngHsh, they claimed it as their prop- 
erty ; but many years elapsed before they came to take possession. 
From the reign of Henry VII. to that of Elizabeth their attention 
was absorbed by affairs at home. During EHzabeth's reign the 
great struggle between Catholic and Protestant assumed the form 
of an international contest, in which the gigantic power of Spain 
was pitted against England and the Netherlands, while France was 
divided within itself. In 1588 the defeat of the Invincible Armada 
marked the overthrow of Spanish supremacy and the triumph of 
Protestantism. England had prepared the way for this glorious 
victory by training up such a set of naval captains as has never 
been surpassed in any age or country. The most famous of these 
were Sir Francis Drake, Sir Martin Frobisher, Sir John Hawkins, 
Sir Thomas Cavendish, Sir Humphrey Gilbert, Lord Howard of 
Effingham, and Sir Walter Raleigh. They began as buccaneers 
and raiders upon the Spanish possessions in all parts of the globe ; 
they ended as colonizers ; while from first to last they were explor- 
ers. Drake and Cavendish carried the British flag into the Pacific, 
visited the coast of California, and circumnavigated the earth. 
Frobisher, in quest of a northwestern passage to India, entered the 
Arctic Ocean and explored a part of it. Hawkins — to our shame 
and sorrow in later days — began the practice of kidnapping ne- 
groes on the Guinea coast and selling them as slaves. At length 
Gilbert and his half-brother Raleigh attempted to found colonies in 
America. Gilbert was wrecked and perished in the sea. Raleigh 
'obtained from the queen a grant of the vast region included be- 
tween the 34th and 45th parallels of latitude, which the maiden 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 13 

queen called, in honor of herself, Virginia. For several years 
Raleigh worked earnestly to establish a colony somewhere in this 
region, sending out a number of expeditions under skilful captains, 
though arduous duties at home prevented his going in person. At 
one moment, in 1585-87, he seemed on the point of succeeding 
with a settlement which had been begun on Roanoke Island ; but 
the Invincible Armada absorbed too much attention. The colony 
was inadequately supported and perished miserably. Nevertheless 
the work which Raleigh did was so important in directing the ener- 
gies of the English toward colonizing North America that he must 
be ranked first in the long series of great men who have founded 
the United States. 

London and Plymouth Companies. — After having lost ^40,000 
in these attempts, finding the task too great for his unaided ener- 
gies, Raleigh assigned all his interests in Virginia to a joint-stock 
company of merchants and adventurers. For some years nothing 
was accomphshed ; but at last in 1606 some of these same people, 
interested in Raleigh's schemes, organized two companies for set- 
tling and trading in America. These were known as the London 
and Plymouth companies. The region called Virginia was divided 
into two parts. The London company was to control everything 
north of Florida as far as the 40th parallel, while everything be- 
tween this and Canada was to be controlled by the Plymouth 
company. On New Year's Day, 1607, three ships of the London 
company sailed from the Downs, and on the 26th of April they 
reached Chesapeake Bay. At Jamestown they laid the founda- 
tions of the first permanent English colony in America. Beside the 
crews, which numbered 39, there were 105 persons, of whom 52 were 
classed as " gentlemen," the rest as mechanics and tradesmen. There 
seem to have been no farmers or persons skilled in agriculture. 
For the first year there were no women. Many of them enter- 
tained a vague hope of finding gold, and few of them had any idea 
how to go to work to found a colony. Their food gave out, the 
savages were unfriendly, and fever attacked them. In about four 
months half their number were dead. There can be little doubt 
that the colony would have perished like its predecessors, had it 



14 DTSCO VER Y AND COL ONIZA TION 

not been for the energy and determination of Captain John 
Smith. 

John Smith. — This remarkable man was one of the most pic- 
turesque figures of his time. His adventures in various parts of 
the world, as recounted by himself, were so extraordinary that he 
has sometimes been accused, and perhaps with justice, of stretching 
the truth. He had a romantic temperament, and was fond of hear- 
ing and telling wonderful stories ; yet, after making all allowances, 
his career was very remarkable. He had been captured by Bar- 
bary pirates, left for dead on a battlefield in Hungary, sold into 
slavery in Turkey, and made his way on foot through the Russian 
wilderness. He was full of shifts and expedients, and in the early 
colony at Jamestown was the only man capable of taking the lead. 
He sailed up and down the coast, explored the great rivers, coaxed 
or bullied the Indians, and got supplies of food from them. A 
few houses were built, and a few patches of ground were cleared 
and sowed with corn. But even Smith's energy found it hard to 
keep the colony in existence for two years. 

Lord Delaware. — In 1609 Lord Delaware was appointed gov- 
ernor of Virginia, and a new expedition was sent out, consisting of 
nine ships, with 500 men, under command of two worthy soldiers. 
Sir Thomas Gates and Sir George Somers. As they were nearing 
their destination they were "caught in the tail of a hurricane," and 
the good ship Sea- Venture, with both the commanders on board, 
was driven far away from the rest, and cast upon the Bermuda 
islands. It has been supposed that it was this wreck of the Sea- 
Venture which suggested Shakespeare's "Tempest." Deprived of 
their leaders, the colonists reached Jamestown only to make confu- 
sion more hideous. They were a wretched set, for the most part 
the sweepings of English jails, or ruffians picked up about the 
streets. When things were at their worst. Smith met with an acci- 
dent which made it necessary for him to return to England, and 
the Indians laid a plan for exterminating the colony. About this 
time Gates and Somers, having built a boat with their own hands 
and escaped from the Bermudas, arrived upon the scene and found 
the outlook so desperate that they decided to abandon the enter- 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 15 

prise and take all the settlers back to England. Out of nearly 
500 only 60 were left alive, and stress of hunger had made some 
of them cannibals. On the 8th of June, 1610, they had actually 
embarked for home and sailed a little way down the James river, 
when Lord Delaware arrived with three well-manned ships and 
abundant supplies, and falling on his knees on the sandy beach 
thanked God for the relief of Virginia. 

Sir Thomas Dale. — Lord Delaware was a man of energy. He 
built forts, defeated the Indians, and repressed disorders. But 
his health soon gave out, and the following spring he returned to 
England. His successor, Sir Thomas Dale, was a stern soldier, 
who set up gallows, pillory, and whipping-post ; and slew or hum- 
bled the evil-doers, till peace and decorum reigned throughout 
the little colony. The fortunate accident of a marriage between 
John Rolfe, a leading settler, and Pocahontas, a favourite daughter 
of the sachem Po\vhatan, secured for a time the friendship of the 
Indians. This was important, but something which Sir Thomas 
Dale did was far more important. Hitherto the systeni under which 
the colonists had lived was one of communism, — a system under 
which a few noisy simpletons in our time think every society ought 
to live. Land was owned in common, and whatever food any one 
raised, or whatever property was got by trading with the Indians, 
was thrown into a common stock, to be evenly distributed among 
the settlers. This system put a premium on laziness. The task 
of supporting the colony was thrown upon a few industrious peo- 
ple, while the rest drank rum and made mischief. The sagacious 
Dale changed all this. Henceforth every man was to cultivate his 
own tract of land, and bring two barrels and a half of corn to the 
public granary for public purposes ; whatever he should raise or 
earn beyond this was to be his private property. The effect of 
this change was magical ; even the lazy began to think it w^orth 
while to work, and crime w^as repressed more effectually than pil- 
lory and gallow^s could do it. When Dale returned to England in 
1 616, the colony had become fairly established. He had done 
more than any other man to found the great state of Virginia. 

For the next three years the colony was governed in turn by the 



16 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

humane and upright George Yeardley and the shameless buccaneer 
Samuel Argall. In 1619 Yeardley again became governor, and 
that year was marked by two very notable events ; the introduction 
of negro slavery, and the beginnings of a free popular government. 
Tobacco and Slavery. — For the production of tobacco the soil 
'of Virginia is unsurpassed in the world. In 161 2 its systematic 
cultivation was begun by John Rolfe, and the demand from Europe 
made this employment so profitable that by 1616 the settlers had 
begun to give almost exclusive attention to it. As soon as the 
wise measures of Dale had made Virginia a place where respecta- 
ble people could live, thrifty planters began to come over by hun- 
dreds to raise tobacco and make their fortunes. In 16 19 more 
than 40,000 pounds were shipped to England ; by 1 640 the aver- 
age yearly export had reached 1,500,000 pounds ; by 1670 it had 
reached 12,000,000 pounds. The rapid growth of this industry 
created a greater demand for labour than could possibly be sup- 
plied by free immigration ; and hence it led to the introduction of 
slave labour. In August, 1619, there came in, says Rolfe, "a 
Dutch man-of-war that sold us twenty negars." In those days 
people had no more scruples of conscience in buying and selling 
black men than they had in buying and selling horses or cows ; 
and the African slave trade, thus begun, was carried on for nearly 
two hundred years. At first, however, it did not go on so briskly 
as afterwards, because a certain form of white slavery was still in 
vogue. When the prisons in England were cumbered with crimi- 
nals, a clearance was sometimes effected by sending shiploads of 
them to Virginia to be sold into slavery for a term of years. Gyp- 
sies, vagabonds, and orphan children were kidnapped and disposed 
of in the same way. Such people were known as " indentured 
servants," because the terms and conditions of their servitude were 
prescribed by indentures, as in the case of apprentices in England. 
When after a while they got their freedom, those who were capa- 
ble and enterprising sometimes acquired plantations and became 
respectable members of society; but the greater part either re- 
cruited the ranks of the criminal classes or went out to the frontier 
and led half-savage lives there. After the end of the seventeenth 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 17 

century there was but little more of this buying and selling of 
wretched white men. Work on the plantations was done entirely 
by negroes, and their numbers went on increasing until they be- 
came a source of anxiety to their masters, as is shown by many 
cruel laws in the statute-book. 

Free Government. — By July, 1619, there were four thousand 
white inhabitants in Virginia, distributed among eleven boroughs. 
The charter of the London Company was amended so as to limit 
the authority of the governor by a Council and an Assembly. 
The assembly was to consist of two burgesses or representatives 
from each borough, to be freely elected by the inhabitants. It 
soon came to be known as the House of Burgesses, and was in 
fact a miniature House of Commons for the colony of Virginia. 
It could pass any laws for the government of the colony, provided 
they should not conflict with the laws of England, — a somewhat 
vague provision which, while it retained a veto power in the hands 
of the British government, at the same time allowed great freedom 
of legislation to the colonists. Thus Virginia, within a dozen years 
from the first settlement of Jamestown, became to all intents and 
purposes a self-governing community. In accordance with Yeard- 
ley's instructions, the first representative assembly ever held in 
America met in the chancel of the little church at Jamestown on 
Friday, July 30, 16 19. 

Fall of the London Company. — Free government was a strange 
thing to obtain from such an obstinate and tyrannical sovereign as 
James I. The new charter, indeed, had been wrung from the 
king sorely against his will. The London Company had come to 
be a powerful corporation, with more than one thousand stock- 
holders, including fifty noblemen and some of the wealthiest mer- 
chants in the kingdom. Under its liberal leaders. Sir Edwin 
Sandys, and Shakespeare's friend the Earl of Southampton, it was 
beginning to become a formidable power in politics. Its meetings, 
as the Spanish ambassador truly told James, were " the seminary 
to a seditious parliament " ; but James needed no such warning. 
He made up his mind that the London Company must fall, and 
accordingly he accused it of mismanagement and brought suit 



C)J 



18 ■ DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

against it in the courts. The judges were timid and time-servin 
as was often the case in those days, and the case was decided in 
favour of the king. In the summer of 1624 the charter of the 
company was annulled ; and James set to work with his own pen 
to write out a code of laws for Virginia. But while he was about 
it he died, in March, 1625, and his son Charles succeeded to the 
throne. 

Virginia under Charles I. — The legal basis on which the free 
government of Virginia had rested was now destroyed, and the 
new king, Charles I., was just as unscrupulous and tyrannical as 
his father. But the death of James happened opportunely for the 
Virginians. Wishing to govern without parliaments, Charles natu- 
rally was at his wit's end to devise ways of getting money without 
summoning a parliament to grant funds for the expenses of gov- 
ernment. Among other things he wished to get a monopoly of 
the tobacco trade, and this desire led him to deal courteously 
with the Virginians and recognize their miniature parliament. In 
1628 he directed the governor of Virginia to convene the House 
of Burgesses for the purpose of granting him such a monopoly. 
But the assembly vindicated its independence by higgling about 
the price, and the monopoly was not granted. After this the king 
found so much to occupy him at home in his chronic quarrel with 
the people that he was unable to interfere with fatal effect in Vir- 
ginia. In 1629 he sent over a wretched governor. Sir John Har- 
vey, who not only put on airs and insulted the people, but stole 
the public money, and even went so far as to sell lands which were 
the private property of individual planters. This was more than 
human nature could bear, and in 1635 ^^^ Virginians deposed Sir 
John Harvey and appointed a provisional governor in his stead. 
This bold act enraged the king. He called it rebellion, refused to 
hear a word against the unjust ruler, and reinstated him in office ; 
but after a short time things had come to such a pass with Charles 
that he deemed it prudent not to make too many enemies, and 
Harvey was recalled to England. In 1642, just as the thunder- 
clouds of civil war were breaking over the mother-country. Sir 
William Berkeley came over as governor, and was the most con- 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 19 

spicuoiis figure in the history of Virginia for the next five-and- 
thirty years. 

The Palatinate of Maryland. — In 1630 an unwelcome visitor 
came to Virginia. This was the excellent George Calvert, a York- 
shire gentleman whom James I. had raised to the peerage as Lord 
Baltimore. The fact that he was a Roman Catholic did not pre- 
vent his standing high in the good graces of the Stuart kings. He 
had been a member of the London Company, and after its disso- 
lution Charles L had desired him to remain as one of a provisional 
council for the government of Virginia. But he had a different 
aim in view. Catholics were made uncomfortable in England, and 
Lord Baltimore wished to found a colony in America where they 
might live unmolested. He had tried to settle such a colony in 
Newfoundland, but the enterprise failed. On his visit to Virginia 
in 1630 he was rudely treated, as a Catholic and as an interloper. 
He sailed up Chesapeake Bay, explored part of the country north 
of the Potomac, and returning to England, obtained a grant of it 
from Charles L In compliment to the queen Henrietta Maria, 
the country was called Maryland. The privileges granted to Lord 
Baltimore were the most extensive ever conferred upon a British 
subject, and amounted almost to making him an independent sov- 
ereign. Maryland was made a palatinate, or independent princi- 
pality, saving only the feudal supremacy of the crown. With this 
sole reservation, the Lord Proprietary had all the rights of a sover- 
eign, and his powers and dignities were hereditary in his family. 
Parliament could not tax the Maryland colonists, or legislate for 
them ; they were also allowed to trade freely with all foreign ports. 

Lord Baltimore died before he had founded a colony under this 
remarkable charter ; but in 1634 the work was begun under his son 
and successor, Cecilius Calvert. The leaders of the emigration 
were mostly Roman Catholics, but a majority of the settlers were 
Protestants, and this made a policy of general toleration necessary. 
In view of the almost regal powers wielded by the Lord Proprie- 
tary, it was not easy for the Protestant settlers to oppress the Cath- 
olics ; while, on the other hand, if the Catholic settlers had been 
allowed to annov the Protestants, it would forthwith have raised 



20 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

such a storm in England as would have overwhelmed the Lord 
Proprietary and blasted his enterprise. The policy of toleration, 
which circumstances thus forced upon both ruler and people, soon 
began to draw men of all creeds to Maryland, and the colony grew 
rapidly in population and wealth. In particular, a great number 
of Puritans came, and presently, encouraged by the growing 
strength of their party in England, they began to show themselves 
intolerant of the Catholics, and took measures to undermine their 
ascendency in the colony. In this they were at first aided, but 
afterwards opposed, by the action of Virginia. 

Virginia and Maryland. — From the first the Virginians were 
indignant at the grant to Lord Baltimore, because it took away 
from them a territory which they regarded as rightfully their own. 
But in 1634 they had Sir John Harvey on their hands, and were 
in no condition to pick too many quarrels with the king's govern- 
ment. There was one Virginia gentleman, however, who had a 
claim which he was in nowise disposed to yield. This was William 
Clayborne, who had settled at Kent Island, in the Chesapeake, 
and resisted the Maryland settlers with armed force. In 1634 he 
was defeated in a little naval fight on the Potomac river, and 
driven from Kent Island. But he nursed his wrath, and in 1645, 
while the great rebellion was at its height in England, he invaded 
Maryland, and succeeded for a moment in overturning the propri- 
etary government. His success was due to his having made him- 
self a leader of the Puritan party ; but this turned against him the 
Virginians and their Cavalier governor. Sir William Berkeley. From 
the beginning the religion of Virginia had been that of the Estab- 
lished Church, and although many Puritans had settled in that 
colony since 1619, they were never welcome there. Berkeley now 
took sides against Clayborne, and the government of the Calverts 
was re-established in Maryland. But the contest was not yet 
ended. 

In January, 1649, King Charles was beheaded. It was now the 
Puritans who were uppermost in England, while it was the king's 
friends who were seeking to better their fortunes by leaving the 
country. Many of these Cavaliers came to Virginia, and while they 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 21 

were coming, the Puritans in that colony were leaving it and flock- 
ing into Maryland. Thus, as Virginia was given up more and 
more to the Cavaliers, the Puritan party increased in Maryland 
until it made another attempt to get control of the government, 
again under the lead of Clayborne. On the 25th of March, 1654, 
a bloody battle was fought near the site of Annapolis, and the 
Puritans were victorious. But their triumph was short-lived. In 
1658 the death of Cromwell deprived them of their chief support, 
and the government of the Calvert family was again restored. 

During the reigns of Charles II. and James II. the career of 
Maryland was peaceful ; but on the accession of William and Mary 
new laws enacted by Parliament against Catholics annulled the 
charter of the Calverts, and their government suddenly fell to the 
ground. From 1692 to 17 14 Maryland was ruled by governors 
appointed by the crown. In the latter year the fourth Lord Balti- 
more turned Protestant, and his proprietary rights were revived. 
Maryland remained a sort of hereditary monarchy until, in 1776, 
the rule of the sixth Lord Baltimore was terminated by the Decla- 
ration of Independence. 

Virginia under Charles II. — In spite of her dislike of Puritans, 
Virginia submitted gracefully to Oliver Cromwell, by whom she 
was allowed to choose her own governors. In 1652 Sir William 
Berkeley, after ten years in office, was succeeded by a governor 
chosen by the House of Burgesses. In 1660, when the Stuart 
dynasty was restored to the throne in the person of Charles IL, 
the Burgesses shrewdly elected Berkeley again to be their governor, 
and the king confirmed him. Berkeley was a fine gentleman of 
the old school, an aristocrat every inch of him, a man of velvet 
and gold lace, a gallant soldier, an author whose plays were per- 
formed on the London stage, a devoted husband, a chivalrous 
friend, and withal a bigoted upholder of kingship and a stern and 
merciless judge. Before the end of his rule the little colony of 
John Smith had come to be a considerable state. In 1670 the 
population numbered 40,000 souls, and the tobacco crop had come 
to be a source of great wealth. There were no large towns. 
The planters lived apart on their vast estates on the banks of the 



22 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

broad creeks and rivers with which the country is intersected. For 
the most part, they had their own wharves, where they dealt di- 
rectly with European traders, shipping their cargoes of tobacco in 
exchange for imported merchandise. Hence there were very few 
manufactures in the colony, few merchants, few schools, few roads. 
Each planter on his estate was Hke a lord surrounded by depend- 
ents, and the state of society was very simple, while at the same 
time there was considerable luxury and elegance. 

During this period a great many gentlemen of the Cavalier party 
came and settled in Virginia. Among them were the ancestors of 
the most famous Virginians engaged in the American Revolution, 
such as Washington, Jefferson, Patrick Henry, the Randolphs, the 
Lees, Madison, Mason, and Pendleton. From 1650 to 1670 these 
men came in such numbers as to give a well-defined character to 
Virginian society. 

In spite of this, the foolish and wicked Charles H. treated the 
Virginians little better than if they had been his enemies. Laws and 
regulations interfering with their trade, kept them in a chronic state 
of discontent, till at length in 1673 the king capped the chmax by 
granting the whole country to two of his favourites. Lords Arlington 
and Culpepper, as coolly as if it were all a wilderness without any 
white inhabitants ! 

Bacon's Rebellion. — Even with a king to back them, it was not 
easy for two men to take possession of a country with 40,000 
inhabitants, and thi's wonderful grant came to nothing ; but it 
aroused fierce indignation throughout the colony. While affairs 
were in this inflammable state, the Indians became troublesome. 
In the early days of the colony they had threatened its very 
existence. They had slain 4O0 people in a fearful massacre in 
1622 ; and in 1644 they had again taken the war-path, but had 
been completely vanquished by Berkeley. Now in 1675 ^^ey rose 
in arms again, and began burning and laying waste the outlying 
plantations and murdering their inhabitants. But Berkeley was 
now afraid to call out the military force of the colony, lest in the 
prevailing disaffection it might be turned against himself. At 
length, after nearly 400 scalps had been taken by the sav- 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 23 

ages, the people raised a small volunteer force without authority 
from the governor, and put it under the leadership of Nathaniel 
Bacon, a young Englishman of good family and liberal education, 
who had lately come to Virginia. As Bacon marched against the 
Indians, Berkeley proclaimed him a rebel, and started with a small 
force in pursuit of him. This conduct aroused the whole country 
to rebellion, and the governor was obliged not only to retreat, but 
to issue writs for a general election, and to promise a redress of 
grievances. Bacon was elected to the new assembly, and under 
his lead an eloquent memorial was sent to the king, recounting 
the oppressions under which his faithful subjects in Virginia had 
suffered. Once more Bacon marched against the savages, when 
in the midst of a brilliant campaign he learned that Berkeley had 
again proclaimed him a rebel. Leaving his work on the fron- 
tier, he instantly marched upon Jamestown and took possession of 
the government, while Berkeley fled in dismay. A third time, 
after settling affairs at the capital, did Bacon set forth to over- 
whelm the Indians, and no sooner had he got out of sight than 
Berkeley came forward and resumed the administration of the 
colony. Again Bacon returned to Jamestown, captured the score 
of houses of which the capital consisted, and burned them to the 
ground, that the town might no longer afford a shelter to the tyrant. 
A few days afterward he was seized with a malarial fever, and died, 
and the rebelHon forthwith collapsed for want of a leader. 
Twenty-two of his principal followers were tried by court martial, 
and hanged as soon as sentence was pronounced. Charles II. 
deemed it prudent to disavow this cruel conduct of Berkeley. The 
too zealous governor was recalled in disgrace, but the Virginians 
gained nothing by the rebellion. Their eloquent memorial passed 
unheeded. From Bacon's death to the Declaration of Independ- 
ence was just a hundred years ; and for all that time the poHti- 
cal history of Virginia is mainly the story of a protracted brawl 
between the governors appointed by the crown and the assemblies 
chosen by the people. Under such influences were the Virginians 
educated for the great part which they played in the American 
Revolution. 



24 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATIO?/ 

§ 4. The Dutch in New Netherland. 

Founding of New Netherland. — The year 1 609 is an interest- 
ing year to the student of American history. The summer of 
1 609 witnessed that fatal victory of Champlain over the Mohawks, 
which set the strongest Indian power on the continent in deadly 
hostihty to the French. At the same moment John Smith, on 
the upper waters of the Chesapeake, was holding friendly parley 
with a host of the same formidable savages in their bark canoes. 
The first Frenchman ever seen by these tawny lords of the New 
York wilderness came as an enemy, the first Englishman as a 
friend. It was in 1609 that Spain, after a fruitless struggle of 
more than forty years, consented to the independence of the 
Netherlands, so that the maritime energies of the Dutch were set 
free for the work of colonization in East and West. It was also 
in 1609 that Spain, by banishing a million of her most intelligent 
and industrious citizens on account of their Moorish origin, 
inflicted upon herself such a terrible wound that she was no 
longer able to compete with the other colonizing nations of 
Europe. It was now England, France, and Holland that were 
foremost in the race for colonial empire ; and curiously enough, it 
was in this same eventful year that the Dutch came to North 
America and interposed themselves between the French and the 
English, in the commanding region ruled by the Iroquois. In the 
summer of 1609 the great English sailor Henry Hudson, then in 
the service of the Dutch East India Company, sailed along the 
American coast in his little ship the Half-Moon, entered the noble 
river which bears his name, and ascended it as far as the head of 
tide-water at the site of Albany. He was looking for a northwest 
passage to India ; what he found was the finest commercial and 
military situation on the x^tlantic coast of North America, and the 
most direct avenue to the fur trade of the interior. By 16 14 
the Dutch had begun to settle on the island of Manhattan, on 
the southern end of which a small town soon grew up, which they 
called New Amsterdam. As their object was trade rather than 
agriculture, their posts were soon established along the Hudson 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 25 

river and toward the valley of the Mohawk, in the line of travel 
marked out by the traffic in peltries. In 162 1 the Dutch West 
India Company was established, to superintend the colonization 
of New Netherland. To encourage the founding of permanent 
estates, it was provided that any member of the Company who 
should bring fifty settlers thither should be entitled to an estate 
with sixteen miles frontage on the Hudson river. This allowed 
room for about ten such estates on each bank between New 
Amsterdam and P'ort Orange, which stood on the site of Albany. 
The right of holding manorial courts and other feudal privileges 
were attached to these grants ; and thus was created the class of 
pafroons — the Schuylers, Van Rensselaers, Courtlandts, and 
others — whose position was very much like that of a European 
nobility, as it was based upon landlordship and upon the exercise 
of a local territorial jurisdiction. The patroons brought many 
colonists with them, they acquired immense fortunes by trade, and 
their descendants have to this day continued to form a conspicu- 
ous and important element in New York society. 

The colony founded by the Dutch in 16 14 remained in their 
hands for just fifty years, and at the end of this period the popu- 
lation had reached about 8000. Of this number, about 1500 
were inhabitants of New Amsterdam, a town which in those days 
was already cosmopolitan. The Dutch pursued a policy of tolera- 
tion, and hence, in that cruel age of religious turmoil, they drew 
settlers from almost every country in Europe. It is said that in 
1640 eighteen different languages were spoken on Manhattan 
Island. 

Its Overthrow. — The Dutch were fortunate enough to win the 
friendship of the powerful Iroquois, but with the Algonquins of 
Connecticut and Long Island their relations were far from peace- 
ful. In 1643-45 there was a terrible war with these tribes, which 
at times seemed even to threaten the existence of the Dutch 
colony. These wars were partly due to the wretched misgovern- 
ment of the colony. There was no self-government here, as in 
Virginia. The settlers could neither make their own laws .nor 
assess their own taxes, Ordinarily the governor, who was 



26 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

appointed by the West India Company, exercised supreme power ; 
though occasionally he found it necessary to consult with an 
advisory board of from eight to twelve men who were chosen by 
the settlers. The fifth governor, WilHam Kieft (1638-47) was a 
foolish tyrant who nearly ruined the colony. Under his successor, 
the famous Peter Stu)rv^esant, who was also a tyrant, but a sensible 
one, things went on more prosperously. During his administration 
the population and wealth of the colony were more than doubled. 
In 1637 a small party of Swedes had taken possession of the 
mouth of the Delaware river and made settlements there; in 1655 
Stuyvesant overcame and annexed this little colony. But it was 
soon the turn of the Dutch themselves to be swallowed up by a 
greater power. From its geographical relations with the interior, 
the Hudson river was the most commanding military position in 
North America, and the English had no mind to leave it in the 
hands of their rivals the Dutch. They got possession of New 
Amsterdam by an act of high-handed treachery quite character- 
istic of King Charles II. In the summer of 1664, at a time of 
profound peace between England and Holland, he fitted out a 
secret expedition, under command of Col. Richard Nichols, and 
sent it over to New Amsterdam to demand the surrender of the 
colony. Stuyvesant, taken by surprise, had only 250 soldiers 
wherewith to defend the town against 1000 English veterans aided 
by the 90 guns of the fleet. The people, moreover, were weary of 
Stuyvesant's arrogant rule, and ready to lend a willing ear to the 
offer of English liberties. Accordingly, in spite of the governor's 
rage, the town was surrendered. New Netherland passed without 
a blow into the hands of the Enghsh, and became the proprietary 
domain of the king's brother, the Duke of York. He sold the 
portion between the Hudson and Delaware — or, as they were 
often called, the North and South — rivers to Sir George Car- 
teret, who had won distinction as governor of the island of Jersey. 
In honour of Carteret this new domain was called New Jersey, 
while the rest of New Netherland was called New York, in honour 
of the duke. The region between the Delaware river and Mary- 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 27 

land, which has smce become the state of Delaware, remamed for 
some time an appendage of New York. 

§ 5, The Beginnings of New England. 

Earliest Ventures. — The country now known as New England, 
together with the region west of it and as far south as the Dela- 
ware river, was for some time called " North Virginia." The first 
attempt to found a colony here was made by Bartholomew Gos- 
nold'in 1602. He discovered and named Cape Cod, Martha's 
Vineyard, and the Elizabeth islands, and built a house on the 
little islet of Cuttyhunk, but want of provisions drove him back to 
England. Further unsuccessful attempts were made by Martin 
Bring in 1603, and by George Waymouth in 1606. We have 
already seen how the London and Blymouth Companies for the 
colonization of North xA.merica were incorporated in 1606. In the 
following year — the same which saw the building of Jamestown — 
an expedition was made to " North Virginia," under the auspices 
of the Blymouth Company. Sir Ferdinando Gorges, a gentleman 
of Somersetshire, and Sir John Bopham, chief justice of the King's 
Bench, were the persons chiefly interested in this enterprise. The 
settlers built some huts near the mouth of the Kennebeck river 
and spent the winter of 1607-8 there, half- frozen and half- 
starved. Next spring they returned home and reported that the 
country was too cold to be habitable by Englishmen. 

In the spring of 16 14 the famous John Smith came over with 
two ships, and explored the coast very minutely from the mouth of 
the Benobscot to Cape Cod. He made an interesting map of the 
coast and named the country New England, and at his instance 
the king's second son, afterward Charles I., gave names to more 
than thirty places on the map ; of these Cape Ann, Charles River, 
and Blymouth still remain as originally given. Next year Smith 
started with a second expedition, but was defeated and taken pris- 
oner by a French squadron. In 16 16 Gorges sent out a party 
which stayed all winter by the river Saco. In June, 1620, one of 
Smith's captains, named Dermer, landed at Blymouth and pro- 
nounced it a good place for a settlement, if only fifty or more 



28 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

people could be got together for that purpose. Within five months 
more this idea was to be realized in an extraordinary and quite 
unforeseen manner. 

The Puritans. — The Protestant reformation, set on foot in 
England in the reign of Henry VIII., was secured in 1588 by the 
defeat of the great Spanish Armada. After this triumph, attention 
was soon called to a division which had for some time been grow- 
ing up in the ranks of the Protestants. Some of the Reformers 
wished to go to much greater lengths than those who under Edward 
VI. and Elizabeth had established the Church of England. Their 
extreme views were partly an inheritance from the Lollards, or 
disciples of the great reformer Wiclif, and partly the result of 
contact with the followers of John Calvin. During the persecution 
under Mary, many Englishmen had taken refuge in Switzerland 
and become Calvinists ; and on their return they found the reforms 
of Elizabeth not extensive enough to suit them. They wished to 
simplify the government of the church and do away with many of 
its forms and ceremonies, so as to make it (as one of their oppo- 
nents angrily observed) a " church of the Purity " ; and from this 
sneer, it has been supposed, was derived the glorious name of 
Puritan, by which these people will always be known. During 
Elizabeth's reign the Puritans became numerous in all parts of 
England ; but they were especially numerous in the eastern coun- 
ties of Lincoln, Norfolk, Suffolk, and Essex, and in the southwest- 
ern shires of Somerset, Dorset, and Devon, so famous for their 
share in the maritime adventures of that wonderful time. These 
parts of rural England should on one account have an especial 
interest for Americans, for among their picturesque villages and 
smiling fields once dwelt the forefathers of nearly twenty millions 
of our fellow-countrymen. 

The Pilgrim Fathers. — During the reigns of Elizabeth and 
James I. the Puritans generally did not wish to leave the Church 
of England, but to stay in it and reform it according to their own 
notions. But as early as 1567 a small number of ministers, de- 
spairing of accomplishing what they wanted, made up their minds 
to separate from the church and to hold religious services in pri- 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 29 

vate houses. In 1580 a Norfolk clergyman named Robert Brown 
went about advocating this policy of separation, and those who 
adopted it were known as Separatists or Brownists. They were 
accused of sedition and persecuted. Many were thrown into jail, 
some were hanged ; Brown fled to the Netherlands. The persecu- 
tion was kept up intermittently for the next thirty years. 

At Scrooby, a hamlet in Nottinghamshire near the edge of 
Lincoln, there was a congregation of Separatists who listened to 
the eloquent preaching of John Robinson. In 1608 they fled in a 
body to Holland, where they maintained themselves for a while at 
Leyden. But the prospect of losing their English speech and 
nationality in a foreign land did not please them, and after ten 
years they made up their minds to migrate to America. They 
sent agents to England, obtained a grant from the London Com- 
pany, and petitioned tlie king for a charter. James refused them 
a charter, but made no objections to their going ; and on the i6th 
of September, 1620, the Mayflower set sail from Plymouth, in Dev- 
onshire, with 102 passengers on board. They aimed at the coast 
of New Jersey, but when they sighted land on the 19th of Novem- 
l3er it was the peninsula of Cape Cod. After spending some time 
in exploring the coast, they landed at length, on the 21st of Decem- 
ber, at the spot already marked on Smith's map as Plymouth. The 
principal leaders of this migration were William Brewster, William 
Bradford, John Carver, and Miles Standish. They made a treaty 
Avith Massasoit, the sachem of the Wampanoag Indians, who lived 
in the neighborhood, and this treaty was observed for fifty-four 
years. Yet though relieved of danger from this source, their suf- 
ferings were great. More than half their number died the first 
year, and after ten years they had only increased to 300. Their 
grant from the London Company was useless, as their settlement 
was beyond its limits ; but in 1621 they got a new grant from the 
Plymouth Company. After 1630 they began to profit by the great 
emigration set on foot by the Company of Massachusetts Bay, and 
their numbers increased much more rapidly. In 1640 the popu- 
lation of the Plymouth colony had reached nearly 3000 ; in 1670 
it had reached 8000, distributed among twenty towns. 



30 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

Company of Massachusetts Bay. — In 1627 the project of col- 
onizing New England was taken up afresh by a remarkable body- 
of men of wealth, culture, and high social position, including many 
leaders of the Puritan party, which had now come to be very 
powerful in England. They purchased a large tract of land of the 
Plymouth Company, and got a charter from Charles I., incorporat- 
ing them as the Company of Massachusetts Bay. The affairs of 
this new company were to be managed by a governor, deputy-gov- 
ernor, and eighteen assistants, to be elected annually by the mem- 
bers of the company. They could make any laws they liked for 
their settlers, provided they did not contravene the laws of England. 
But the place where the company was to hold its meetings was not 
mentioned in the charter. Accordingly in 1629 the company de- 
cided to take its charter over to New England and found a self- 
governing community there. The king and his friends bore no good 
will to these men, but no attempt was made to interfere with their 
proceedings. At this moment the king was not unwilling to have 
a number of leading Puritans go away from England. In the at- 
tempt to found a colony they might perish or wreck their fortunes, 
as so many had already done. Should they succeed and become 
troublesome, Charles I. was not the man to let a charter stand in 
the way of his dealing with them as he liked. He never felt bound 
to keep his word about anything, — a trait of character which was 
by and by to cost him his head. 

Settlement of Massachusetts. — The name " Massachusetts " is an 
Algonquin word meaning " Great Hills," and is said to have been first 
apphed to the Blue Hills in Milton, and to the tribe of Indians dwell- 
ing in that neighbourhood. As a territorial designation, it was first 
given by the English settlers to the Massachusetts Fields, near the 
mouth of the Neponset river. By 1630 a group of settlements had 
been begun in this neighbourhood, at Dorchester, Roxbury, Boston, 
Charlestown, and Watertown. John Endicott had come to Salem 
two years earlier. During the year 1630 more than a thousand 
persons came over to Massachusetts. John Winthrop, a wealthy 
gentleman from Groton, in Suffolk, was the first governor of the 
company ; and Thomas Dudley, a distant relative of Queen Eliza- 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 31 

beth's favorite, the Earl of Leicester, accompanied him as deputy- 
governor. At first it was thought that pubhc business could be 
transacted by a primary assembly of all the freemen in the colony 
meeting four times a year ; but the number of freemen increased 
so fast that this was very soon found to be impracticable. Accord- 
ingly the colonists fell back upon the old English rural plan of 
electing deputies or representatives to a general court. For a few 
years the deputies sat in the same chamber with the assistants, but 
in 1644 they were formed into a second chamber with increased 
powers ; and this was the origin of the American system of legisla- 
tion by two houses, a senate and a house of representatives. The 
chamber of assistants answered pardy to the council and partly to 
the senate of later times. The whole system was a sort of minia- 
ture copy of the English system, the governor answering to the 
king, the assistants, to the upper house of parliament, and the 
representatives, to the lower house. 

The Puritans who now came to Massachusetts had not formally 
separated from the Church of England, as the settlers of Plymouth 
had done, but the separation was soon effected. Two clergymen 
at Salem consecrated each other, and drew up a confession of 
faith and a church covenant \ and thirty persons joining in this 
covenant constituted the first Congregational church in America. 
A committee of their number then formally ordained the two 
ministers by the laying on of hands. These proceedings gave um- 
brage to two of the Salem party, who tried forthwith to set up a 
church in conformity with Episcopal models. These two men were 
immediately sent back to England, and so the principle was virtually 
laid down that the Episcopal form of worship would not be tol- 
erated in the colony. The setders, who had been so grievously 
annoyed by Episcopacy in England, considered this exclusiveness 
necessary for their self-protection, and in 1631 they carried it still 
further. They decided that "no man shall be admitted to the 
freedom of this body politic but such as are {_sic\ members of some 
of the churches within the limits of the same." If any of the 
dreaded emissaries of Strafford and Laud — the advisers and abet- 
tors of the despotic pohcy of Charles L — were to come to Massa- 



32 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

chusetts, this measure would prevent their voting or taking any 
active part in pubHc affairs. 

By the year 1634 nearly 4000 settlers had arrived; about 20 
villages had been founded ; the building of permanent houses, 
roads, fences, and bridges had begun to go on quite briskly ; lumber, 
furs, and salted fish were sent to England in exchange for manufac- 
tured articles ; several thousand goats and cattle grazed in the 
pastures, and swine innumerable rooted in the clearings and 
helped to make ready the land for the ploughman. Amid this 
hurry of pioneer work, the interests of education were not for- 
gotten. So many of the leaders of the emigration were univer- 
sity men, mostly from Cambridge, that it was not long before a 
university began to seem indispensable to the colony. A few 
common schools were already in existence, when in 1636 the 
General Court appropriated ;£400 toward the establishment of a 
college at Newtown, three miles west of Boston. Two years later 
John Harvard, a young clergyman at Charlestown, dying childless, 
bequeathed his books and half his estate to the new college, which 
was forthwith called by his name ; while in honour of the mother 
university the name of the town was changed to Cambridge. 

Threatened Dangers. — This appropriation of pubUc money for 
a college was a wonderful thing in 1636, for in that year the infant 
colony was threatened with formidable perils. The king and his 
party did not like the liberties which the men of Massachusetts 
were taking with things ecclesiastical and political, and it was re- 
solved to destroy their charter. They had bitter enemies, too, 
among the members of the old Plymouth Company. An attempt 
was made to seize the Massachusetts charter and to divide up the 
territory of the colony among half a dozen hostile noblemen. As 
soon as the men of Massachusetts heard of this, they meditated 
armed resistance. They began building forts in and about Boston 
harbour, militia companies were put in training, and a beacon was 
set up on the highest hill in Boston, to give the alarm in case of 
the approach of an enemy. But the danger was postponed by 
events in England. The king issued his famous writ of ship- 
money, and Archbishop Laud undertook to impose his new liturgy 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 33 

upon Scotland. These things soon raised such a storm in the old 
country that Massachusetts was for a time forgotten and went on 
thriving and managing its own affairs. 

Rhode Island. — While the colonists were kept in alarm by the 
ill will of the home government, there were causes of strife at 
work at their very doors, of which they were fain to rid themselves 
as soon as possible. Among those who came over in 163 1 was a 
remarkable young graduate of Oxford named Roger Williams, one 
of the noblest men of his time. In 1633 ^e became pastor of a 
church in Salem. He was an advocate of religious freedom in 
the modern sense, of the entire separation of church from state, 
and of the equal protection of all forms of religious faith. At 
that time very few people held such liberal views. The Puritans of 
Massachusetts made no pretence to any such liberality. They did 
not cross the ocean in order to found a state in which every one 
might believe and behave according to his own notions of what was 
right. They came in order to found a state in which everything 
might be cut and dried in accordance with the notions which they 
held as a community. If anybody disagreed with them, let him 
imitate their example, and go away and found a state for himself; 
there was room enough in the American wilderness. Such being 
their views, it was impossible for the strict Puritans to look with 
approval upon Roger Williams. But presently he made himself 
odious by a political pamphlet in which he denied the right of the 
colonists to the lands which they held in New England under the 
king's grant. Such a doctrine at such a time was not to be 
endured, and Williams was ordered to return to England. He 
escaped to the woods and passed a winter with the Indians about 
Narragansett Bay, learning their language and acquiring a great 
personal influence over them. In the spring of 1636 he learned 
that though the Massachusetts people would not have him preach- 
ing among them, they made no objection to his moving off and 
setting up a church and state of his own ; and under such circum- 
stances the beginnings of the state of Rhode Island were made at 
Providence. 

In this same eventful year, 1636, a very bright and capable lady 



34 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

from Lincolnshire, named Mrs. i\nne Hutchinson, came to Boston 
and gave lectures there. She entertained peculiar views about 
''justification," and many of her hearers forsook the teachings of 
the regular ministers, to follow her. There was fierce excitement 
among the people of the little half-built town in the wilderness. 
Mrs. Hutchinson found defenders among people of high position, 
among them the famous Sir Henry Vane, who was for that year 
governor of Massachusetts, but soon returned to England, to 
become one of the greatest of Protestant statesmen, and ultimately 
to die on the scaffold. Sir Henry was a friend to freedom of 
speech, but the men of Massachusetts were not mistaken in main- 
taining that Mrs. Hutchinson was dangerous to the colony. An 
Indian war was at hand, and so hot had the theological quarrel 
grown that many men were ready to refuse to serve in the militia 
because they entertained doubts as to the soundness of the chap- 
lain's opinions. Accordingly Mrs. Hutchinson was expelled from 
the colony. Of her friends and adherents some, going northward, 
founded the towns of Exeter and Hampton, near Portsmouth and 
Dover, which had already been settled by followers of Sir Fer- 
dinando Gorges. In 1641 these four towns were added by their 
own consent to the domain of Massachusetts, and so the matter 
stood until 1679, when Charles 11. marked them off as the royal 
province of New Hampshire. 

Mrs. Hutchinson herself, however, with the rest of her adherents, 
bought the island of Aquidneck from the Indians, and there, in 
1639, made the beginnings of Newport. Soon afterward Mrs. 
Hutchinson moved into New Netherland, and in 1643 was 
murdered by Indians. One of her descendants was Thomas 
Hutchinson, the famous Tory governor of Massachusetts, at the 
time of the Boston Tea- Party. 

The colony of Rhode Island, thus founded by exiles from Mas- 
sachusetts, continued to practise universal toleration and became a 
refuge for heretical and oppressed people. At the same time 
society was for many years extremely turbulent there, and the' 
colony was regarded with strong disfavour by its neighbours. 

Connecticut. — During the same eventful year, 1636, the foun- 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 35 

dations of Connecticut were laid. A few Plymouth men had already 
established themselves on the site of Hartford, and the younger 
John Winthrop had built a fort at Saybrook, commanding the 
mouth of the river. In the course of 1635 twenty vessels came 
from England to Massachusetts, bringing 3000 colonists. The 
land near the coast was as yet by no means crowded, but there 
were many people who disapproved the course of Massachusetts 
in allowing none but church-members to vote, and these feelings 
would seem to have had something to do with the migration to the 
Connecticut valley. The towns of Windsor, Hartford, and VVeth- 
ersfield were founded in 1636, and in the colony which thus arose 
there was no restriction of the right of suffrage to church-members. 
The Pequot War. — It was now sixteen years since the landing 
of the Pilgrims, yet none of the litde colonies had been molested 
by the Indians. The treaty with Massasoit had been strictly main- 
tained in the east, and had kept things quiet there. As settlers 
now moved westward they encountered other Indians. To the 
west of the Wampanoags dwelt the Narragansetts, and to the west 
of these the formidable Pequots, in what is now the valley of the 
Thames. North of the Pequots, in the highlands of Worcester 
county, were the Nipmucks, while the Connecticut valley was the 
home of the Mohegans. The Pequots bullied and browbeat the 
other tribes, and were the terror of the New England forests. 
They soon came into collision with the settlers of Connecticut, 
and their chief sachem, Sassacus, tried to persuade all the tribes 
to unite in a grand crusade against the English, and drive them 
into the ocean. But the Narragansetts and Mohegans hated the 
Pequots too bitterly for this, and they made alliances with the 
white men. For several months the Pequots prowled around the 
Connecticut settlements, murdering and kidnapping, until the 
wrath of the English was kindled, and they made up their minds to 
strike a blow that would be long remembered. On a moonlit 
night of May, 1637, Captains Underbill and Mason, with a force of 
77 white men and 400 friendly Indians, stormed the principal 
pahsaded village of the Pequots, burned it to the ground, and 
massacred all but five of its 700 inhabitants. The miserable rem- 



36 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

nant of the Pequot tribe was soon wiped out of existence, and there 
was peace in the land for forty years. 

Colony of New Haven. — About a month after this terrible ven- 
geance, a company of wealthy London merchants arrived in 
Boston. Their minister, John Davenport, had drawn upon him- 
self the especial enmity of Archbishop Laud. It was their desire 
to put into practice a Puritan ideal of society even stricter than 
that of Massachusetts, and after a year they sailed up Long Island 
Sound, and settled New Haven, and presently Milford and Guil- 
ford. These towns united to form a commonwealth which was for 
some time distinct from Connecticut. In the colony of New 
Haven none but church-members were allowed to vote, and in 
many respects it was the most puritanical of the New England 
colonies. It was in New Haven that the famous " Blue Laws " 
were said to have been enacted, forbidding people to kiss their 
children on Sunday, or to make mince-pies, or to play on any 
musical instrument except a drum, trumpet, or jew's-harp. People 
speaking carelessly, are wont to allude to these wonderful edicts 
as the " Blue Laws of Connecticuty But in truth there never were 
any " Blue Laws " at all. The story was invented in 1781 by Dr. 
Peters, a Tory refugee in London, in order to cast ridicule upon 
the Puritans of New England. 

End of the Exodus to New England. — Ever since the year 
1629, when the Company of Massachusetts Bay was chartered. 
King Charles I. had contrived by hook or by crook to get along 
without calling a parliament. In doing so, he had imposed illegal 
taxes upon the English people, and interfered with their freedom 
in various ways, and more especially with their freedom of worship, 
until their patience was worn out; and at length, in 1640, when 
the king, for want of money, was obliged to summon a parliament, 
the day of reckoning began. Before granting money, it was the 
custom of parliaments to demand a redress of grievances, and this 
parliament found so much of that sort of work to do, that it came 
to be known as the Long Parliament. It conducted a great war, 
beheaded the king, and saw the government of Cromwell rise and 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 37 

fall, before it finally ended its existence in 1660, after the strangest 
career that a legislative body has ever had since history began. 

The meeting of the Long Parliament was the end of the Puritan 
exodus to New England. The Puritans had now so much work 
to do in the mother country that their annual migrations across 
the Adantic abruptly ceased. More than 20,000 had come to New 
England between 1630 and 1640, afnd as many as 5000 children 
born in the new country were growing to maturity. During the 
next hundred years probably more people went back to England 
than came thence to the New England colonies. For more than 
a century the Puritan states in America pursued their career in 
remarkable seclusion from other communities, and developed a 
supple and sturdy type of character, which has already proved to 
be of great value to the world. It was not until after the Revolu- 
tionary war that these people began anew to take up their west- 
ward march into the state of New York and beyond, until now, 
after another century, we see some of their descendants dwelling in 
a Portland and a Salem on the Pacific coast. 

The New England Confederacy. — With a view to more efficient 
self-defence against the Indians, the French of Canada, and the 
Dutch, a confederation of New England colonies was formed at 
Boston in 1643. Massachusetts, Plymouth, New Haven, and 
Connecticut formed themselves into a league, under the style of 
"The United Colonies of New England." The Rhode Island 
plantations were not admitted to the league because of their 
disorderly condition and the prejudice against them on the part 
of the other colonies. The administration of the league was put 
into the hands of eight Federal Commissioners, two from each 
colony, and this board had entire control over all dealings with 
the Indians or with foreign powers. It was to hold its meetings 
once a year, or oftener, should occasion require it. This confed- 
erate government did not work so well as it nyght have done, 
because Massachusetts, being stronger than the other three colo- 
nies together, was sometimes inclined to domineer. But it did 
excellent service for forty years, and the details of its political 
history are extremely interesting. 



38 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

This confederation of the four colonies was an act of sovereignty 
performed without consulting the home government, and it was 
regarded with jealousy in England. But Charles I. had too much 
on his hands to interfere with these bold Puritans, and their friend 
Cromwell was not disposed to interfere with them. So the con- 
federacy flourished in peace till after Charles II. had got back 
from his wanderings and takeft his seat upon the throne which he 
was to disgrace. There were plenty of malcontents in England 
who had been sent back there because the Puritans of the New 
World did not like their society. Such persons poured their 
grievances into the royal ear. They said that the people of New 
England were all rebels at heart ; and if it was meant by this that 
they were bent upon having their own way without regard to the 
wishes of the home government, there was a great deal of truth in 
it. Men who had crossed the ocean and encountered the hard- 
ships of the wilderness, in order to secure the priceless treasure of 
self-government, were hkely to insist upon keeping what they had 
won at such great cost. 

Quakers in Boston. — The Puritans, however, were very far from 
being always in the right. We have seen that they were by no 
means tolerant of those who disagreed with them in opinion. For 
a while they got along by banishing such people or sending them 
back to England ; but at length their exclusive scheme of govern- 
ment was put to the test by a set of people as resolute as them- 
selves, who persisted in coming among them and would not go 
away when they were told to go. These resolute people were the 
Quakers, — one of the noblest of Christian sects, but in their 
origin, like other sects, the object of much contumely. They 
believed in private inspiration, and the Puritans were extremely 
afraid of such a doctrine because they thought it must lead to 
looseness of living. The Quakers came over from England not so 
much to escape persecution as to preach their doctrines. Accord- 
ingly they were not satisfied with staying in Rhode Island, where 
they were tolerated, but insisted on coming into Massachusetts. 
Those who came were banished under penalty of death ; but they 
returned, and at length four were hanged on a gallows erected on 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 39 

Boston Common. This was the most disgraceful thing that ever 
happened in New England. The tragedy ended in 1661 with the 
victory of the Quakers, when one of their number, the brave 
Wenlock Christison, came into court and threatened the judges. 
"I am come here to warn you," said he, "that ye shed no more 
innocent blood." He was arrested and condemned to death ; 
but the people had come to be shocked at the severity of the 
magistrates, and the sentence was not executed. The persecution 
of Quakers, however, continued for a while in a milder form, and 
thirty or more were imprisoned or whipped. 

It was the policy of Charles II. to be tolerant toward Quakers. 
Catholics and Quakers were the two kinds of Christians whom all 
other sects agreed in considering as outside the pale of toleration. 
Charles was secretly a Catholic, and wished to advance Catholic 
interests in England, and he could only do this by pursuing a 
general policy of which Quakers as well as Catholics got the 
benefit. In 1661 he issued an order in council forbidding the 
General Court of Massachusetts to inflict bodily punishment upon 
Quakers, and directing it to send them to England for trial. But 
to send people to England for trial was a humiliation to which 
Massachusetts would never submit, and she now not merely disre- 
garded the king's message, but defied it by enacting fresh laws 
against the Quakers. 

Coining Money. — The enemies of the New England people, 
while dilating upon this rebelHous disposition of Massachusetts, 
could also remind the king that for several years that colony had 
been coining and circulating shillings and sixpences with the name 
"Massachusetts" and a tree on one side, and the name "New 
England" with the date on the other. There was no recognition 
of England upon this coinage, which was begun in 1652 and kept 
up for more than thirty years. Such pieces of money used to be 
called "pine-tree shillings" ; but, so far as looks go, the tree might 
be anything, and an adroit friend of New England once assured 
the king that it was meant for the royal oak in which his majesty 
hid himself after the battle of Worcester ! 

The Connecticut Charter. — Against the colony of New Haven 



40 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

the king bore a special grudge. Two of the regicide judges, who 
had sat in the tribunal which condemned his father, had found 
refuge in that colony, and the bold minister Davenport had openly 
aided and comforted them. Moreover New Haven had delayed 
more than a year in recognizing the restoration of Charles II. to 
the throne. So the king was naturally very angry with New Haven, 
when circumstances enabled him to punish this disloyal colony, 
to snub Massachusetts, and to deal a blow at the Confederacy, all 
at one and the same time. 

Massachusetts and New Haven had agreed in allowing only 
members of the Congregational church to vote. The main object 
of this was to keep out Episcopalians, but there were many 
who disapproved of such exclusiveness. Connecticut disapproved 
of it, and had some controversy with New Haven about the matter. 
None of the colonies save Massachusetts had a charter, and Con- 
necticut was very anxious to obtain one. Perhaps this may have 
helped to make her prompt in recognizing the king's restoration. 
In 1 66 1 the younger Winthrop went over to England to apply for 
a charter for Connecticut. The king thought it an excellent idea 
to weaken Massachusetts by raising up a rival state by her side 
and sowing dissensions between them. To suppress New Haven 
and forcibly annex her to Connecticut would be just the thing. 
Accordingly a charter of extraordinary liberality was granted to 
Connecticut, and she was given possession of all the territory of 
New Haven. At the same time, as if further to irritate Massa- 
chusetts, an equally liberal charter was granted to Rhode Island. 

It was with great reluctance that the people of New Haven sub- 
mitted to the enforced union with Connecticut. Many of the 
people, indeed, would not submit, but in 1667 migrated to New 
Jersey and laid the foundations of Newark. 

The suppression of one of its four members was a serious blow 
to the New England Confederacy, but it continued its work, with 
its constitution amended, so as to make it a league of three states 
instead of four. 

Visit of the Royal Commissioners. — In the summer of 1664 
the king sent a couple of ships of war to Boston harbor, with 400 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 41 

troops under command of Col. Richard Nichols, who had been 
appointed with three others as royal commissioners, to look after 
the affairs of the New World. Colonel Nichols took his ships to 
New Amsterdam, and captured that important town. After his 
return the commissioners held meetings at Boston, and for a time 
the Massachusetts charter seemed in danger. But the Massachu- 
setts lawyers were shrewd, and months were frittered away to no 
purpose. Presently the Dutch made war upon England, and the 
king felt it to be unwise to irritate the people of Massachusetts 
beyond endurance. The turbulent state of English politics which 
followed still further absorbed his attention, and New England 
had another respite of nearly twenty years. 

King Philip's War. — In 1660 the sachem Massasoit died, and 
was succeeded by his son Wamsutta, whom the English called 
Alexander. After two years Wamsutta died and was succeeded by 
his brother Metacom, whom the English called Phihp. Since the 
annihilation of the Pequots there had been no outbreak of Indian 
hostilities, though the Narragansetts had been with much reason 
suspected of plotting against the white men. As a rule the settlers 
had treated the natives with justice and kindness. The learned 
John Eliot had translated the Bible into their language, and had 
converted many by his preaching. In 1674 there were 4000 
Christian Indians in New England. Schools were introduced 
among them, and many learned to read and write. The English 
as yet showed no disposition to encroach upon the Indians, and 
they scrupulously paid for the land which they occupied. 

Nevertheless the Indians dreaded and disliked this formidable 
power, which had so rapidly grown up among them. In the 
presence of the white men they were no longer lords of the forest ; 
they were obliged to recognize a master whom they hated and 
would gladly destroy. For a long time the terrible destruction of 
the Pequots held them in awe, but that wholesome feeling had 
begun to fade away. The red man had now become expert in 
the use of fire-arms, and no longer seemed so unequal a match for 
his white neighbor. Under these circumstances, Philip seems to 
have formed a scheme for uniting the native tribes against the 



42 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

English, and utterly destroying them. It was a scheme like that 
which Sassacus had entertained in 1636, and long afterward, in 
1 763, Pontiac cherished a similar design. For several years the 
magistrates of Plymouth and Massachusetts were made uneasy by 
rumors of Philip's intrigues. At length, in June, 1675, ^^e horri- 
ble work began with an attack upon the town of Swansea. Massa- 
cres followed at Dartmouth, Middleborough, and Taunton. Vic- 
tims were flayed alive, or tied to trees and scorched to death 
with firebrands. Driven from his own haunts by the colonial 
troops, Philip fled to the Nipmucks, and they attacked Brookfield, 
and came near destroying the village, but after a three days' fight 
they were defeated by troops from Lancaster. Captain Lothrop 
was overwhelmed near Deerfield by 700 Nipmucks, and of his 
force of 90 picked men only eight escaped the tomahawk. The 
Connecticut valley was ravaged from Northfield down to Springfield. 
In this desperate state of affairs, it became evident that the Narra- 
gansetts also were meditating hostilities. They could muster 3000 
warriors, and were the most formidable of the New England tribes 
since the extermination of the Pequots. The Federal Commis- 
sioners made up their minds to be beforehand and strike at the 
principal fortress or stockaded village of the Narragansetts. In 
December this stronghold was attacked by Governor Winslow, of 
Plymouth, with 1000 men. It stood on a rising ground in the 
middle of a great swamp ; it was surrounded by rows of palisades, 
which made a wall twelve feet in thickness ; and the only approach 
to its single door was over the trunk of a felled tree two feet in 
diameter, and slippery with snow and ice. Victory under such 
circumstances was not easy to achieve, but the Puritan army did 
its work with a thoroughness that would have won the praise of 
Cromwell. After a desperate struggle they stormed the village, 
with a loss of one- fifth of their number. To the Indians no quar- 
ter was given, and on that day the Narragansett tribe was virtually 
swept from the face of the earth. 

Rough as this work was, it was much easier to deal with the 
Indians when crowded behind palisades, than to catch them when 
scattered about in the trackless forest. They were skilful in elud- 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 43 

ing pursuit, and in dealing their blows in unexpected places. The 
war was kept up several months longer by the Nipmucks, until 
Captain Turner surprised and slew the flower of their warriors at 
the falls of the Connecticut which have since borne his name. 
This heavy blow (in May, 1676) broke the strength of the savages. 
In August, Philip was hunted down and killed, and his severed 
head was mounted on a pole in the town of Plymouth. By this 
time the Tarrateens in the northeast had caught the war fever, and 
during the next year most of the villages between the Piscataqua 
and the Kennebec were laid in ashes, and their inhabitants massa- 
cred. In April, 1678, after a three years' reign of terror, the war 
came to an end. Of 90 towns in Massachusetts and Plymouth, 1 2 
had been quite destroyed, and 40 others had been the scene of fire 
and slaughter. More than 600 white men had lost their lives, 
besides the hundreds of women and children butchered in cold 
blood. The war-^ebt of Massachusetts was very heavy, and that 
of Plymouth was reckoned to exceed the total amount of personal 
property in the colony; yet in course of time every farthing of 
this indebtedness was paid. Fearful as was the damage done to 
the settlers, however, it was to the Indians that the destruction 
was fatal and final. Of disturbances wrought by them in central 
and southern New England we hear no more. Their power here 
was annihilated, and henceforth their atrocities were wrought 
chiefly on the frontier, in concert with the French of Canada. 

The Massachusetts Charter annulled. — During this deadly 
struggle the men of New England had sought no help from beyond 
sea and had got none. So far from helping them, it was just this 
moment of weakness and danger that Charles II. chose for wreak- 
ing his spite upon Massachusetts. Other circumstances favored 
his design. There was a considerable party in the colony which 
was disgusted with the ilhberal policy which restricted the rights 
of citizenship to members of the Congregational church. The 
leader of this party was Joseph Dudley, an able man, son of the 
Dudley who had been heutenant to Winthrop. Then there were 
in England the inheritors of the grudge of Gorges and his friends 
against the colony, and the malcontents who had suffered from the 



44 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

Stern policy of the Puritans, and all these men found a bold and 
able leader in Edward Randolph, who even went so far as to pro- 
pose that the Church of England should be established in Massa- 
chusetts, and that none but Episcopal clergymen should be allowed 
to solemnize marriages there. This was like the policy which the 
king was trying to impose upon Scotland, and which for the next 
ten years was to fill that noble country with slaughter and weeping. 

It was in 1679, just when all New England was groaning under 
the bereavements and burdens entailed by Philip's war, that the 
Stuart government began its final series of assaults upon Massa- 
chusetts. First the Piscataqua towns were taken away and made 
into a royal province under the name of New Hampshire. There 
was a difiiculty of long standing between Massachusetts and the 
heirs of Gorges about the territory Of Maine, which had lately been 
amicably adjusted : the king now annulled the arrangement that 
had been made. He also commanded the government of Massa- 
chusetts to abolish its peculiar restriction upon the right of suf- 
frage, and to allow Episcopal forms of worship. Much wrangling 
went on for the next five years, when at length, on June 21, 1684, 
the dispute was summarily ended by a decree in chancery annulling 
the charter of Massachusetts. 

Tyranny of Sir Edmund Andros. — Now it was on this charter 
that not only all the cherished institutions of the colony, but even the 
titles of individuals to their lands and homes, were supposed to be 
founded. By taking away the charter the king meant that the 
crown resumed all its original claim to the land, and might grant 
it over again to other people if it felt so inclined. In February, 
1685, a stroke of apoplexy carried off Charles II., and his equally 
wicked but much less able brother, the Duke of York, ascended 
the throne as James II. Sir Edmund Andros, a great favorite 
with the new king, was sent over to America to act as viceroy on 
a great scale. All the New England colonies were lumped to- 
gether with New York and New Jersey, and put under his rule. 
In 1687 the charters of Connecticut and Rhode Island were 
rescinded ; but the decree was never formally enrolled. In Octo- 
ber of that year Andros went to Hartford to seize the charter, 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 45 

but failed to find it. According to local tradition it was hidden ni 
the hollow trunk of an oak-tree. 

Andros was a coarse and unscrupulous man, and the two years 
of his government were the most wretched years in the history of 
New England. For the moment it seemed as if an end was about 
to be put to American freedom. The governor imposed arbitrary 
taxes, seized upon private estates, encroached upon common lands, 
and suspended the writ of habeas corpus. It was announced that 
all titles were to be ransacked, and that he who wished to keep 
his property must pay a quit-rent, which under the circumstances 
amounted to blackmail. The Old South Meeting- House was 
seized and used as an Episcopal church. The General Court was 
abolished, and a censorship of the press was set up. Such a bare- 
faced tyranny was hardly ever seen before or since in any commu- 
nity speaking the English language. If it had lasted much longer, 
New England would have rebelled ; there would have been war. 

Fall of the Stuart Dynasty. — But the tyranny of Andros in 
America was but the counterpart of the tyranny which his royal 
master was trying to establish in England. The people of England 
rebelled, and the tyrant fled across the Channel. In April, 
1689, it became known in Boston that the Prince of Orange had 
landed in England. The signal-fire was lighted on Beacon Hill, 
a meeting was held at the Town House, drums beat to arms, 
militia began to pour in from the country, and Andros, disguised 
in woman's clothes, was arrested as he was trying to escape to a 
ship in the harbor. Five weeks afterward, the new sovereigns, 
William and Mary, were proclaimed in Boston, and the days of 
Stuart insolence were at an end. 

Massachusetts becomes a Royal Province. — From a Dutch 
Calvinist, like William HI., the Puritans had little to fear on the 
score of religion; yet the king had no great hking for such a 
republican form of government as that of the New England colo- 
nies. The defiance with which Massachusetts had treated the 
Stuarts looked too much like a challenge of the royal prerogative 
in general ; but the smaller colonies, having been less annoyed, 
had been less intractable, and now found favor with the king. 



46 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

Connecticut and Rhode Island were allowed to keep their old 
charters, by which they were, to all intents and purposes, inde- 
pendent republican governments. Both states lived under these 
charters till long after the Revolution, — Connecticut until 1818, 
Rhode Island until 1843. New Hampshire was again erected 
into a royal province. Plymouth was annexed to Massachusetts, 
and so were Maine and Nova Scotia. But along with this vast 
territorial extension there went a considerable curtailment of the 
political independence of Massachusetts. By the new charter, 
granted in 1691, the right of the people to be governed by a 
legislature of their own choosing was expressly confirmed ; but all 
laws passed by the legislature were to be sent to England to 
receive the royal approval ; the governor was henceforth to be 
appointed by the crown ; no qualification of church-membership 
was to be required of voters ; and all forms of worship were to be 
tolerated except the Roman Cathohc. 

From the accession of WilHam and Mary to the accession of 
George III. the history of the internal politics of Massachusetts is, 
for the most part, like the history of Virginia, the chronicle of a 
protracted brawl between the governors appointed by the crown 
and the legislatures chosen by the people. Thus these two great 
colonies, unlike each other in so many respects, were gradually 
preparing to unite in opposition to any undue assertion of author- 
ity on the part of the home government. 

§ 6. The Later Colonies. 

The Carolinas. — During the seventeenth century the only 
English colonies which figure conspicuously in American history 
are Virginia and Maryland, New York, and the colonies of New 
England. In the latter half of the century the foundations of the 
other English colonies were gradually laid. In order to provide 
for some of his loyal friends whose property had suffered in the great 
rebellion, Charles II. in 1663 made a grant of the land between 
Virginia and Florida to a company of eight noblemen, to hold as 
absolute proprietors, saving only a formal allegiance to the crown. 
This created a proprietary form of government somewhat similar 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 47 

to that of Maryland, save that, instead of the semi-royal lord pro- 
prietary, an oligarchy of noblemen was to stand at the head of the 
administration. The country had already been named Carolina 
a century before by the unfortunate Jean Ribaut, in honor of his 
king, Charles IX. of France ; and the name served equally well 
for a colony founded by Charles II. of England. An elaborate 
aristocratic constitution was drawn up for the colony by John 
Locke, the philosopher, but it was never put in practice. Immi- 
gration went on for half a century, and two colonies grew up 
without much regard to the concerted scheme. The proprietary 
government was very unpopular. In 1729 South Carolina volun- 
tarily became a royal province, and two years later North Carolina 
followed her example. 

The differences between these two colonies were important and 
striking. All the colonies we have hitherto considered, except 
New York, were purely EngHsh in blood. In the Carolinas there 
were a great many French Huguenots, Germans, Swiss, Scotch, 
and Scotch-Irish ; but in North Carolina this non-EngUsh element 
was by no means so great as in South Carolina, where it formed 
more than half the white population. The EngHsh element in 
North Carolina was at first of a very low character, consisting 
largely of "poor whites" and border ruffians escaped or driven 
from Virginia. Tobacco was cultivated in large quantities, but 
oftener on small estates than on vast plantations. Agriculture was 
ruder than in any of the other colonies, and society was in a more 
disorderly condition. Slavery existed from the outset, but there 
were fewer slaves than in Virginia, and the slavery was of a mild 
type. The white people were generally poor and uneducated, and 
knew comparatively little of what was going on beyond their 
borders. Yet in spite of these disadvantages North Carolina im- 
proved greatly during the eighteenth century, and by the time of 
the Revolution was becoming a comparatively thrifty and well- 
ordered state. 

South Carolina, on the other hand, was a comparatively wealthy 
community. The plantations were large, and the negro population 
greatly outnumbered the whites. The chief source of wealth was 



48 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

the cultivation of rice and indigo, and in these occupations an 
able-bodied negro could earn so much more in a single year than 
the cost of his purchase that it was more profitable to work him 
to death than to take care of him. Accordingly slavery was of a 
far more cruel type than in Virginia and North Carolina, and the 
negro population remained more barbarous than in those colonies. 
The estates were mostly managed by overseers, and the planters 
usually congregated in Charleston, where all owned houses. Thus 
Charleston, alone among many southern towns before the Revo- 
lution, came to rival the chief northern towns in size and in trade. 
It was in 1776 the fifth city in the United States, with a population 
of 15,000. The children of the rich planters were educated in 
Europe, and society in Charleston was cultivated and brilliant. 

Pennsylvania. — Everywhere except in turbulent Rhode Island 
the Quakers met with such an inhospitable reception that, like 
other*sects, they were moved to found a colony according to their 
own notions. In 1677 a great number came to New Jersey and 
made settlements in the western part of the country. Then the 
matter was taken up by a very remarkable man, the most cele- 
brated of Quakers, who happened to be on terms of pecuHar 
friendship and intimacy with the royal family. William Penn, son 
of a distinguished admiral, had been entrusted by his dying father 
to the especial care of the Duke of York ; and here the interests 
of James were such as to keep him faithful to his trust. As already 
obser\^ed, Catholics and Quakers were the two sects which nobody 
tolerated, and so the Catholic Stuarts, in order to protect their 
own friends, were obliged to pursue a course which incidentally 
benefited the Quakers. Penn inherited the claim to a debt of 
;£i 6,000 due from the crown to his father, and there was no way 
in which such a debt could more easily be paid than by a grant of 
unsettled territory in America. Accordingly in 1681 Penn obtained 
a grant of 40,000 square miles of territory comprised between the 
domain of Lord Baltimore and that of the Duke of York. Penn 
would have called this princely domain New Wales, but the king 
insisted upon naming it Pennsylvania. Of all the colonies this 
was the only one that had no sea-coast, and as Penn wanted free 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 49 

access to the ocean he proceeded to secure the proprietorship of 
Delaware, which for some years had been an appendage of New 
York. Throughout the remainder of the colonial period Pennsyl- 
vania and Delaware continued under the same proprietary govern- 
ment, though after 1702 they were distinct provinces, each with 
its own legislature. Penn's charter was drawn up in imitation of 
Lord Baltimore's, but differed from it in two important points. 
Laws passed by the assembly of Maryland were valid as soon as 
confirmed by Lord Baltimore, and did not even need to be seen 
by the king or his privy council ; but the colonial enactments of 
Pennsylvania were required to be sent to England for the royal 
approval. In the Maryland charter the right of the crown to 
impose taxes within the limits of the province was expressly 
denied ; in the Pennsylvania charter it was expressly affirmed. 

In shaping the policy of his new colony Penn was allowed the 
widest latitude, and never was a colony founded on more liberal 
principles. Absolute freedom of conscience was guaranteed to 
every one, the laws were extremely humane, and land was offered to 
immigrants on very easy terms. Within three years from its foun- 
dation, Pennsylvania contained 8000 inhabitants, and it was not 
long in outgrowing all the other colonies, except Virginia and Mas- 
sachusetts. Of the white population scarcely half were English ; 
about one-third were Germans, and the remainder chiefly Irish. 
In 1776 Philadelphia was the largest city in the United States, 
with a population of 30,000, and in Hterary activity and general cul- 
ture it was second only to Boston. 

§ 7. The Struggle between England and France. 

Discovery of the Great West. — While the settlement of Penn- 
sylvania was filling up the gap between the northern and southern 
English colonies, and was thus consolidating the English power 
upon the Atlantic seaboard, a gallant French explorer was adding 
vast domains in the interior to the empire of Louis XIV. Robert 
de la Salle was a man of iron if ever there was one. He did more 
than any one else to extend the dominion of France in the New 
World. In 1541 Ferdinand de Soto had discovered the Missis- 



50 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

sippi river in the lower part of its course, but the Spaniards had 
done nothing more in this quarter, and De Soto's discovery had 
lapsed nearly or quite into oblivion. In 1639 ^^^ following years 
the French began to approach the great river from the north, the 
Jesuit missionaries taking the lead. In 1673 Marquette and JoHet 
reached the Mississippi by way of the Wisconsin, and sailed over 
its waters as far down as the mouth of the Arkansas. La Salle 
had already begun his work in 1669 'y ^^^ ^.t length in 1682, after 
several unsuccessful attempts, in which he showed such indomi- 
table pluck and perseverance as has never been surpassed, he 
explored the great river to its mouth in the Gulf of Mexico, took 
possession of the country drained by it in the name of the king of 
France, and named it after him Louisiana. But before he had 
been able to carry out his design of establishing a colony at the 
mouth of the river, after a long series of terrible hardships, he was 
waylaid in the forest, and murdered by some mutinous wretches of 
his own party. 

Border Wars. — At the time of La Salle's death in 1687 the 
deadly rivalry between the French and the Enghsh colonies was 
already becoming pronounced. The northward and westward 
growth of New England, and the English conquest of New Nether- 
land, had brought the two great rivals face to .face. The savage 
struggle between the French and the Iroquois had now been kept 
up for many years. In 1689 the Iroquois attacked Montreal, and 
for a moment it seemed as if they might prove more than a match 
for the French and their Algonquin allies. But in 1693 and 1696 
they received a terrible chastisement at the hands of Count Fron- 
tenac, who was one of the ablest of the viceroys sent from France 
to govern Canada. Frontenac marched through the Mohawk 
valley from Lake Ontario, burning towns, laying waste the country, 
and seizing upon the principal war-chiefs as hostages. Between 
1690 and 1697 the Iroquois confederacy lost more than half its 
warriors, and never recovered from the blow, although it still 
remained a formidable power until after the Revolutionary War. 

The great struggle between France and England began, both in 
the Old World and in the New, in 1690, on the occasion of the 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 51 

accession of Louis XIV.'s arch-enemy, William of Orange, to the 
English throne. In 1690 a party of Frenchmen and Algonquins 
surprised the frontier town of Schenectady and slaughtered sixty 
of the inhabitants. During the next seven years they perpetrated 
shocking massacres at Salmon Falls and Durham in New Hamp- 
shire, at York and Fort Loyal (on the site of Portland) in Maine, 
and at Groton and Haverhill in Massachusetts. In 1690 the 
Massachusetts militia, under Sir William Phips, sailed up the St. 
Lawrence and laid siege to Quebec, while the Connecticut forces, 
under Winthrop, marched against Montreal ; but these generals 
were no match for Frontenac, and both expeditions ended disas- 
trously. In the following year the French were defeated in a bloody 
battle by the New York militia and Mohawks under Peter Schuyler. 
But, on the whole, as long as Frontenac lived, the English had the 
worst of it. He died at Quebec in 1698, just after the Peace of 
Ryswick had for a moment put an end to hostilities. 

Peace was of very brief duration. In 1702 began the War of 
the Spanish Succession, which was known in America as Queen 
Anne's War. For eleven years New York and New England were 
harassed by barbarous foes. There was an atrocious massacre at 
Deerfield in 1 704, and another at Haverhill in 1 708, and at all 
times there was terror on the frontier. In this war the French 
were worsted, and at the Peace of Utrecht, in 1713, Acadia was 
ceded to England. 

After twenty-eight years of peace between the two great rivals, 
the War of the Austrian Succession broke out in 1741 and lasted 
till 1748. In America this was known as King George's War. 
Its principal incident was the capture of the great stronghold of 
Louisburg on Cape Breton Island by 4000 New England troops 
under William Pepperell, in 1745. This fortress commanded the 
fisheries and the approaches to the St. Lawrence, and its capture 
saved New England from a contemplated French invasion. The 
gilded iron cross which stands over the entrance to Harvard Col- 
lege Library was taken from the market-place of Louisburg on this 
occasion. At the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, in 1748, greatly to 
the disgust of New England, Louisburg was restored to the French, 



52 DISCOVERY AND COLONIZATION 

in exchange for Madras, in Hindustan, which France had taken 
from England. 

Settlement of Georgia. — The southern colonies took little or 
no part in these earher wars against the French. It was the Span- 
iards with whom they had to contend. The Spaniards laid claim 
to the Carolinas as part of Florida, and kept inciting the Indians 
to hostihties toward the settlers. During the first quarter of the 
eighteenth century the southern frontier witnessed many massacres 
of settlers by the Indians. The great multitude of negro slaves, 
too, in South Carolina, ever ripe for insurrection, made the neigh- 
borhood of the hostile Spaniards especially dangerous. In 1732 
this wretched state of affairs attracted the attention of a gallant 
English soldier, James Oglethorpe, who conceived the plan of 
establishing a new colony which might serve as a mihtary outpost 
against the Spaniards. The land between the Savannah river and 
the Spanish settlements in Florida was made over to a board of 
trustees, and named Georgia, in honor of the reigning king. The 
government was in the proprietary form, the trustees standing in 
the place of the lord proprietary. Oglethorpe was appointed gov- 
ernor, and he obtained his first company of colonists by setting 
free the insolvent debtors who crowded the prisons of England 
after the failure of the South- se^' Bubble and other wild specula- 
tions. Germans and Scotchmen came over in considerable num- 
bers, and a few people from New England joined in the enterprise, 
and founded the town of Sunbury. In 1 739 England and Spain 
were at war, and Oglethorpe's military colony quite justified the 
foresight of its founder. In 1742 the Spaniards were defeated, 
with great slaughter, in the decisive battle of Frederica; and in 
the following year Oglethorpe invaded Florida, and might have 
conquered it if he had been properly supported. After Ogle- 
thorpe's return to England, the proprietary government became 
so unpopular that in 1752 Georgia was made a crown colony. 
Slavery, which had at first been prohibited, was then introduced, 
and the colony became in its social characteristics similar to South 
Carolina, though it was long before it outgrew the illiterateness 
and barbarism of a wild frontier community. At the time of the 



OF NORTH AMERICA. 53 

Revolution it was the smallest of the thirteen colonies, with a 
population of 50,000, of which one-half were slaves. 

Completion of the Contact between New France and the 
English Colonies. — The work of establishing a French colony 
at the mouth of the Mississippi, interrupted by the untimely death 
of the heroic La Salle, was taken up again in 1699 by Iberville. 
In the course of his operations Mobile was founded in 1702, and 
in 1 718 a French company made the beginnings of the city of 
New Orleans. The boundary between the French and English 
colonies was now a very long line, running all the way from New 
Orleans to Montreal. It was a vague and undetermined line, no- 
where fixed by treaty, but everywhere subject to the arbitrament of 
war. To guard their possessions, the French erected a chain of 
some sixty fortresses along this line. The general position and 
direction of this chain is marked by the sites of the towns or 
cities of New Orleans, Natchez, Vincennes, Fort Wayne, Toledo, 
Detroit, Ogdensburgh, and Montreal. 

Thus at the moment when George Washington entered upon 
his public career, the contact between New France and the Eng- 
lish colonies had just been completed all along the line. France 
hoped to establish, in the interior of North America, a Catholic 
and despotic empire, after the pattern of the Old Regime in the 
mother country ; and she had made up her mind that the sway 
of the English race in America must be confined to the narrow 
strip of territory between the Atlantic and the Alleghanies. All of 
the continent west of this mountain range was to become a New 
France, and no English colonist must be allowed to cross the bar- 
rier. The struggle between the two great rivals was thus extended 
over the whole country, so that Virginia began to play a foremost 
part in it. For the first time the English colonies, north and 
south, began to act in concert against a common foe ; and in over- 
throwing the enemy, they first began to feel their own strength 
when united. Out of this great war immediately grew the dis- 
puted questions which formed the occasion of the American Revo- 
lution. The causes having been long at work, the development of 
the crisis was sudden and prodigious. Men old, enough to vote in 



54 DISCOVERY OF NORTH AMERICA. 

town-meeting at the time of Braddock's defeat were not yet fifty 
when Cornwalhs surrendered his army at Yorktown. But in pass- 
ing from 1755 to 1781, we enter a new world, and the man who 
did more than any other toward bringing about this wonderful 
change is the hero of our story, — the modest, brave, far-sighted, 
iron-willed, high-minded general and statesman, whose fame is one 
of the most precious possessions of the human race, — George 
Washington. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



§ I. Before the French War. 

Ancestry. — The Washington family is of an ancient EngUsh 
stock, the genealogy of which has been traced up to the century 
immediately succeeding the Norman Conquest. The name is 
that of the village and manor of Wessyngton or Wassengtone in 
the county of Durham, where for centuries the forefathers of 
George Washington were lords of the manor. There were several 
instances of military ability in the family. In the Great Rebellion 
Sir Henry Washington fought with distinguished valor on the 
side of King Charles ; and his two uncles, John and Andrew, after 
the death of the king, migrated to Virginia, which was becoming 
a favorite resort of the persecuted Cavaliers. In 1657 the Wash- 
ington brothers settled on the Northern Neck, between the Po- 
tomac and Rappahannock rivers, and there at the homestead on 
Bridges Creek John's grandson, Augustine, was born in 1694. He 
was twice married. By his first wife he had two sons, Lawrence 
and Augustine, who grew to maturity. By his second wife, the 
beautiful Mary Ball, he had four sons, George, Samuel, John 
Augustine, and Charles ; and two daughters, Elizabeth and Mil- 
dred. * 

Childhood and Youth. — George, the eldest, was born on the 
2 2d of February, 1732, in the homestead on Bridges Creek; but 
while he was still an infant his father moved to an estate in Staf- 
ford County, opposite Fredericksburg. 

In those days the means of instruction in Virginia were limited, 
and it was the custom among the wealthy planters to send their 
sons to England to complete their education. This was done 



56 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

by Augustine Washington with his eldest son Lawrence, then 
about fifteen years of age, and whom he no doubt considered the 
future head of the family. George was yet in early childhood : as 
his intellect dawned he received the rudiments of education in 
the best establishment for the purpose that the neighl5orhood 
afforded. It was what was called, in popular parlance, an " old 
field school-house " ; humble enough in its pretensions, and kept 
by one of his father's tenants named Hobby, who moreover was 
sexton of the parish. The instruction doled out by him must 
have been of the simplest kind, reading, writing, and ciphering, 
perhaps ; but George had the benefit of mental and moral culture 
at home, from an excellent father. 

When George was about seven or eight years old his brother 
Lawrence returned from England, a well-educated and accom- 
plished youth. There was a difference of fourteen years in their 
ages, which may have been one cause of the strong attachment 
which took place between them. Lawrence looked down with a 
protecting eye upon the boy whose dawning intelligence and per- 
fect rectitude won his regard; while George looked up to his 
manly and cultivated brother as a model in mind and manners. 

Lawrence Washington had something of the old military spirit 
of the family, and circumstances soon called it into action. Span- 
ish depredations on British commerce had recently provoked repri- 
sals. Admiral Vernon, commander-in-chief in the West Indies, 
had accordingly captured Porto Bello, on the Isthmus of Darien. 
The Spaniards were preparing to revenge the blow ; the French 
were fitting out ships to aid them. Troops were embarked in 
England for another campaign in the West Indies ; a regiment of 
four battalions was to be raised in the colonies and sent to join 
them at Jamaica. There was a sudden outbreak of military ardor 
in the province ; the sound of drum and fife was heard in the vil- 
lages, with the parade of recruiting parties. Lawrence Washington, 
now twenty-two years of age, caught the infection. He obtained 
a captain's commission in the newly raised regiment, and embarked 
with it for the West Indies in 1 740. He served in the joint expe- 
ditions of Admiral Vernon and General Wentworth, in the land 



BEFORE THE FRENCH WAR.^ 59 

forces commanded by the latter, and acquired the friendship.,, j|. -^j, 
confidence of both of those officers. He was present at the siegt 
of Carthagena, when it was bombarded by the fleet, and when the 
troops attempted to escalade the citadel. It was an ineffectual 
attack ; the ships could not get near enough to throw their shells 
into the town, and the scaling ladders proved too short. That part 
of the attack, however, with which Lawrence was concerned, dis- 
tinguished itself by its bravery. The troops sustained unflinching 
a destructive fire for several hours, and at length retired with honor, 
their small force having sustained a loss of about six hundred in 
killed and wounded. 

We have here the secret of that martial spirit so often cited of 
George in his boyish days. He had seen his brother fitted out for 
the wars. He had heard by letter and otherwise of the warlike 
scenes in which he was mingling. All his amusements took a mili- 
tary turn. He made soldiers of his schoolmates ; they had their 
mimic parades, reviews, and sham fights ; a boy named William 
Bustle was sometimes his competitor, but George was commander- 
in-chief of Hobby's school. 

Lawrence Washington returned home in the autumn of 1742, 
the campaigns in the West Indies being ended, and Admiral Vernon 
and General Wentworth having been recalled to England. It was 
the intention of Lawrence to rejoin his regiment in that country, 
and seek promotion in the army, but circumstances completely 
altered his plans. He formed an attachment to Anne, the eldest 
daughter of the Honorable William Fairfax, of Fairfax County ; his 
addresses were well received, and they became engaged. Their 
nuptials were delayed by the sudden and untimely death of his 
father, which took place on the 12th of April, 1743, after a short 
but severe attack of gout in the stomach, and when but forty-nine 
years of age. George had been absent from home on a visit dur- 
ing his father's illness, and just returned in time to receive a parting 
look of affection. 

Augustine Washington left large possessions, distributed by will 
among his children. To Lawrence fell the estate on the banks of 
the Potomac, with other real property, and several shares in iron 



60 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

most fiery steed. Traditional anecdotes remain of his achievements 
in this respect. 

Above all, his inherent probity and the principles of justice on 
which he regulated all his conduct, even at this early period of 
life, were soon appreciated by his schoolmates ; he was referred to 
as 'an umpire in their disputes, and his decisions were never re- 
versed. As he had formerly been military chieftain, he was now 
legislator of the school ; thus displaying in boyhood a type of the 
future man. 

The attachment of Lawrence Washington to his brother George 
seems to have acquired additional strength and tenderness on their 
father's death ; he now took a truly paternal interest in his con- 
cerns, and had him as frequently as possible a guest at Mount 
Vernon. Lawrence had deservedly become a popular and leading 
personage in the country. He was a member of the House of 
Burgesses, and adjutant-general of the district, with the rank of 
major, and a regular salary. A frequent sojourn with him brought 
George into familiar intercourse with the family of his father-in- 
law, the Honorable William Fairfax, who resided at a beautiful seat 
called Belvoir, a few miles below Mount Vernon, and on the same 
woody ridge bordering the Potomac. 

William Fairfax was a man of liberal education and intrinsic 
worth ; he had seen much of the world, and his mind had been 
enriched and ripened by varied and adventurous experience. Of 
an ancient English family in Yorkshire, he had entered the army 
at the age of twenty-one ; had served with honor both in the East 
and West Indies, and officiated as Governor of New Providence, 
after having aided in rescuing it from pirates. For some years 
past he had resided in Virginia, to manage the immense landed 
estates of his cousin, Lord Fairfax, and lived at Belvoir in the 
style of an English country gentleman, surrounded by an intelli- 
gent and cultivated family of sons and daughters. 

An intimacy with a family like this, in which the frankness and 
simplicity of rural and colonial life were united with European 
refinement, could not but have a beneficial effect in moulding the 
character and manners of a somewhat home-bred school-boy. It 



BEFORE THE FRENCH WAR. 61 

was probably his intercourse with them, and hiS" ambition to acquit 
himself well in their society, that set him upon compiling a code 
of morals and manners which still exists in a manuscript in his 
own handwriting, entitled "Rules for Behavior in Company and 
Conversation." It is extremely minute and circumstantial. Some 
of the rules for personal deportment extend to such trivial matters, 
and are so quaint and formal as almost to provoke a smile ; but in 
the main, a better manual of conduct could not be put into the 
hands of a youth. The whole code evinces that rigid propriety 
and self-control to which he subjected himself, and by which he 
brought all the impulses of a somewhat ardent temper under 
conscientious government. 

Returning to school George continued his studies for nearly two 
years longer, devoting himself especially to mathematics, and ac- 
complishing himself in those branches calculated to fit him either 
for civil or military service. Among these, one of the most im- 
portant in the actual state of the country was land surveying. In 
this he schooled himself thoroughly, using the highest processes of 
the art ; making sur\^eys about the neighborhood, and keeping 
regular field-books, some of which we have examined, in which 
the boundaries and measurements of the fields surveyed were care- 
fully entered, and diagrams made, with a neatness and exactness 
as if the whole related to important land transactions instead of 
being mere school exercises. Thus, in his earliest days, there was 
perseverance and completeness in all his undertakings. Nothing 
was left half done, or done in a hurried and slovenly manner. 
The habit of mind thus cultivated condnued throughout life ; so 
that however complicated his tasks and overwhelming his cares, 
in the arduous and hazardous situations in which he was often 
placed, he found time to do everything, and to do it well. He 
had acquired the magic of method, which of itself works wonders. 

In one of these manuscript memorials of his practical studies 
and exercises, we have come upon some documents singularly in 
contrast with all that we have just cited, and with his apparenUy 
unromantic character. In a word, there are evidences in his own 
handwriting, that, before he was fifteen years of age, he had con- 



62 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ceived a passion for some unknown beauty, so serious as to disturb 
his otherwise well-regulated mind, and to make him really unhappy. 
Why this juvenile attachment was a source of unhappiness we have 
no positive means of ascertaining. Perhaps the object of it may 
have considered him a mere school-boy, and treated him as such ; 
or his own shyness may have been in his way, and his " rules for 
behavior and conversation" may as yet have sat awkwardly on 
him, and rendered him formal and ungainly when he most sought 
to please. Even in later years he was apt to be silent and embar- 
rassed in female society. "He was a very bashful young man," 
said an old lady, whom he used to visit when they were both in 
their nonage. "I used often to wish that he would talk more." 

The object of this early passion is not positively known. Tra- 
dition states that the "lowland beauty" was a Miss Grimes, of 
Westmoreland, afterwards Mrs. Lee, and mother of General Henry 
Lee, who figured in Revolutionary history as Light Horse Harry, 
and was always a favorite with Washington, probably from the 
recollections of his early tenderness for the mother.^ 

Whatever may have been the soothing effect of the female 
society by which he was surrounded at Belvoir, the youth found a 
more effectual remedy for his love melancholy in the company of 
Lord Fairfax, who was a staunch fox- hunter, and kept horses and 
hounds in the English style. The neighborhood abounded with 
sport ; but fox-hunting in Virginia required bold and skilful horse- 
manship. He found Washington as bold as himself in the saddle, 
and as eager to follow the hounds. He forthwith took him into 
peculiar favor ; made him his hunting companion ; and it was 
probably under the tuition of this hard-riding old nobleman that 
the youth imbibed that fondness for the chase for which he was 
afterwards remarkable. 

Their fox-hunting intercourse was attended with more import- 
ant results. His lordship's possessions beyond the Blue Ridge 
had never been regularly settled nor surveyed. Lawless intruders 
— squatters, as they were called — were planting themselves along 

1 " Light Horse Harry " was father of the great southern general Robert 
Edward Lee. 



bb:fore the French war. 63 

the finest streams and in the richest valleys, and virtually taking 
possession of the country. It was the anxious desire of Lord 
Fairfax to have these lands examined, surveyed, and portioned 
out into lots, preparatory to ejecting these interlopers or bringing 
them to reasonable terms. In Washington, notwithstanding his 
youth, he beheld one fit for the task — having noticed the exer- 
cises in surveying which he kept up while at Mount Vernon, and 
the aptness and exactness with which every process was executed. 
He was well calculated, too, by his vigor and activity, his courage 
and hardihood, to cope with the wild country to be surveyed, and 
with its still wilder inhabitants. The proposal had only to be 
offered to Washington to be eagerly accepted. It was the very 
kind of occupation for which he had been diligently training him- 
self. All the preparations required by one of his simple habits 
were soon made, and in a very few days he was ready for his first 
expedition into the wilderness. 

It was in the month of March (1748), and just after he had 
completed his sixteenth year, that Washington set out on horse- 
back on this surveying expedition, in company with George William 
Fairfax, eldest son of the proprietor of Belvoir. In the course of 
this journey, Washington traversed and surveyed a considerable 
portion of the Shenandoah valley, acquired his first experience in 
woodcraft, and began to make acquaintance with the Indians. 

The manner in which he had acquitted himself in this arduous 
expedition, and his accounts of the country surveyed, gave great 
satisfaction to Lord Fairfax, who shortly afterwards moved across 
the Blue Ridge, and took up his residence at the place heretofore 
noted as his "quarters." Here he laid out a manor, containing 
ten thousand acres of arable grazing lands, vast meadows, and 
noble forests, and projected a spacious manor house, giving to the 
place the name of Greenway Court. 

It was probably through the influence of Lord Fairfax that 
Washington received the appointment of public surveyor. This 
conferred authority on his surveys, and entitled them to be re- 
corded in the county offices ; and so invariably correct have these 
surveys been found that, to this day, wherever any of them stand 
on record, they receive implicit credit. 



64 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

For three years he continued in this occupation, which proved 
extremely profitable, from the vast extent of country to be surveyed 
and the very limited number of public surveyors. It made him 
acquainted, also, with the country, the nature of the soil in various 
parts, and the value of localities ; all which proved advantageous 
*to him in his purchases in after years. Many of the finest parts of 
the Shenandoah Valley are yet owned by members of the Washing- 
ton family. 

Three or four years were thus passed by Washington, the greater 
part of the time beyond the Blue Ridge, but occasionally with his 
brother Lawrence at Mount Vernon. His rugged and toilsome 
expeditions in the mountains, among rude scenes and rough people, 
inured him to hardships, and made him apt at expedients ; while 
his intercourse with his cultivated brother, and with the various 
members of the Fairfax family, had a happy effect in toning up his 
mind and manners, and counteracting the careless and self-indulgent 
habits of the wilderness. 

His Mission to Venango. — During the time of Washington's 
surveying campaigns among the mountains, a grand colonizing 
scheme had been set on foot, destined to enlist him in hardy 
enterprises, and in some degree to shape the course of his future 
fortunes. The long rivalry between France and England was soon 
to culminate in a decisive war for the sovereignty over North 
America. All the country between the Alleghanies and the Mis- 
sissippi river was claimed by the French, on the strength of the 
discoveries of La Salle ; but the English were in nowise inclined 
to admit this claim, and in 1749 an association known as "the 
Ohio Company" was chartered for the purpose of promptly and 
quietly occupying the great Ohio valley. Many of the most intel- 
ligent and enterprising men of Virginia and Maryland belonged 
to this company, and Lawrence Washington was its chief manager. 
But while they were busily engaged in their preparations, the 
French were already in the field. They sent expeditions from 
Canada to the southern shore of Lake Erie, and established forts 
at Presque Isle, where the city of Erie now stands, and at Venango 
on the Alleghany river ; while their emissaries were busy in stirring 



BEFORE THE FRENCH WAR. 65 

up the Indians of the frontier and detaching them from their 
alhances with the Enghsh. This caused a stir of warhke prepara- 
tion in the Enghsh colonies, and especially in Virginia, where 
Washington, at the age of nineteen, was made adjutant-general of 
his district, with the rank of major. About this time he accom- 
panied his brother Lawrence on a journey to the Barbadoes in quest 
of health. The journey was fruitless, the noble Lawrence return- 
ing home in July, 1752, just in time to die under his own roof. 
Soon afterward Governor Dinwiddle made up his mind to send 
a commissioner to Venango, to warn off the French intruders and 
to secure the allegiance of the Indian tribes. Nothing in all 
Washington's career is more remarkable than the fact that, while 
a mere boy of twenty-one, he was chosen for such a dififtcult 
and dangerous enterprise. His woodland experience fitted him 
for it, and as the confidant and executor of his deceased brother 
he was especially well acquainted with the affairs of the Ohio Com- 
pany. After an adventurous journey he reached Venango and 
presented Governor Dinwiddle's letter to the Chevalier St. Pierre, 
the French commandant. Dinwiddle complained of the intrusion 
of French forces into the Ohio country and requested the com- 
mandant to depart peaceably. St. Pierre after much deliberation 
entrusted Washington with a sealed reply. The return of the young 
envoy was fraught with peril. His footsteps were dogged by hostile 
Indians, and an attempt was made to draw him into an ambush. 
But all the dangers were surmounted, and all that forest diplomacy 
could do was done. The friendly Indians were confirmed in their 
allegiance, hostile chiefs were browbeaten, and when Washington 
reached home in January, 1754, he found himself already famous. 
From that moment he was the rising hope of Virginia. 

His First Campaign. — St. Pierre's reply to Dinwiddle's letter 
proving evasive and unsatisfactory, the governor decided to send 
troops at once to the frontier and occupy the important point 
where the waters of the Alleghany and Monongahela rivers unite to 
form the Ohio. The sagacious eye of Washington had selected this 
position as the commanding one for the whole disputed territory, 
and the Ohio Company had already begun building a fort there. 



66 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Dinwiddie's schemes made slow progress, for the Virginia legislature 
was loth to grant the necessary money, and many of the members 
were unable to see an inch beyond their noses, or to believe that 
the people of Virginia could ever possibly have any interest in what 
might go on behind the Alleghany mountains. After much trouble 
300 troops were raised and placed under Colonel Joshua Fry, 
while Washington was made second in command, with the rank of 
lieutenant-colonel. But while these slow preparations were making, 
the French struck their blow. Captain Contrecoeur had embarked 
1000 men with field-pieces in a fleet of sixty hght boats, and 300 
canoes, dropped down the river from Venango, and suddenly made 
his appearance before the fort, which was not yet half completed. 
The whole garrison did not exceed fifty men, and the only privilege 
they could obtain was permission to depart with their working 
tools. The stronghold was soon finished by the French and named 
Fort Duquesne, in honor of the nobleman who was then governor 
of Canada. On the 29th of April, 1754, Washington started with 
a small force to break a path over the Alleghanies and do what he 
could to check the progress of the Frenchmen. After crossing the 
Great Savage Mountain he became aware that enemies were prowl- 
ing about him and seeking to draw him into an ambuscade. At an 
open space known as the Great Meadows, on the 26th of May, he 
surprised and routed this small force, losing one man killed and 
three wounded. Of the French ten were killed, one wounded, and 
twenty-one captured. Their commander Jumonville was slain at 
the first fire. A few days after, in a letter to one of his brothers, 
Washington made his often-quoted remark, "I heard the bullets 
whistle, and, beHeve me, there is something charming in the sound." 
This remark reached the ears of George II., who dryly observed, 
" He would not say so if he had been used to hear many." Horace 
Walpole, for some time after this, ridiculed Washington as a fire- 
eating braggart. It is interesting as an illustration of honest youth- 
ful enthusiasm. Being asked many years aftenvard whether he 
had ever really made such a remark, Washington simply replied, 
"If I said so, it was when I was young." 

In spite of this little success, Washington's position, so far 



BEFORE THE FRENCH IVAR. 67 

advanced in the wilderness, was a perilous one ; and before pro- 
ceeding further he built a palisaded fortress, called Fort Necessity, 
to secure his retreat in case of disaster. By the death of Colonel 
Fry, the chief command of all the frontier troops devolved upon 
him. He was reinforced by a small company of artillery, with 
nine swivels, which were dragged with infinite difficulty over the 
rough crags and bowlders. After advancing thirteen miles from 
Fort Necessity he learned of the approach of a large French force 
from Fort Duquesne, under Captain Villiers. He immediately 
retreated to Fort Necessity, where Villiers came up with him, and 
a fight ensued in which the Virginians lost twelve killed and forty- 
three wounded, while the French, who were attacking entrenched 
positions, suffered a much greater loss. As Washington, however, 
was outnumbered four to one, and was almost destitute of provis- 
ions, he was obliged to surrender the fort. His troops were allowed 
to march out with the honors of war, drums beating and colors 
flying, with all their effects and military stores excepting the 
artillery ; and they made their way homeward unmolested. This 
surrender took place on the 4th of July, 1754. 

Meanwhile a frontier stronghold known as Fort Cumberland 
was built near Wills' Creek, within the Umits of Maryland. Rein- 
forcements arrived in the shape of independent companies from 
New York and the two Carolinas, and immediately there arose 
hot disputes about precedence, which Governor Dinwiddle under- 
took in his wisdom to settle. With new recruits he increased the 
Virginia force to ten companies, and reduced all these to the rank 
of independent companies ; so that there would be no officer in a 
Virginia regiment above the rank of captain. This shrewd meas- 
ure, which Dinwiddle confidently thought would put an end to all 
trouble, at once drove Washington out of the service ; for he very 
properly refused to accept a lower commission than that under which 
his conduct had already gained him a vote of thanks from the 
legislature. 



68 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



§ 2. The Great French War. 

Braddock's Expedition. — Having resigned his commission, and 
disengaged himself from pubUc affairs, Washington's first care was 
to visit his mother, inquire into the state of domestic concerns, and 
attend to the welfare of his brothers and sisters. In these matters 
he was ever his mother's adjunct and counsellor, discharging faith- 
fully the duties of an eldest son, who should consider himself a 
second father to the family. 

He now took up his abode at Mount Vernon, and prepared to 
engage in those agricultural pursuits, for which, even in his youth- 
ful days, he had as keen a relish as for the profession of arms. 
Scarcely had he entered upon his rural occupations, however, when 
the service of his country once more called him to the field. 

The disastrous affair at the Great Meadows, and the other acts 
of French hostility on the Ohio, had roused the attention of the 
British ministry. Their ambassador at Paris was instructed to com- 
plain of those violations of the peace. The court of Versailles 
amused him with general assurances of amity, and a strict adher- 
ence to treaties. Their ambassador at the court of St. James, the 
Marquis de Mirepoix, on the faith of his instructions, gave the 
same assurances. In the meantime, however, French ships were 
fitted out, and troops embarked, to carry out the schemes of the 
government in America. So profound was the dissimulation of the 
court of Versailles, that even their own ambassador is said to have 
been kept in ignorance of the hostile game they were playing, while 
he was exerting himself in good faith, to lull the suspicions of Eng- 
land, and maintain the international peace. 

The British government now prepared for military operations in 
America ; none of them professedly aggressive, but rather to resist 
and counteract aggressions. A plan of campaign was devised for 
1755, having four objects. 

To eject the French from the lands which they held unjusdy, in 
the province of Nova Scotia. 

To dislodge them from a fortress which they had erected at 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 69 

Crown Point, on Lake Champlain, within what was claimed as 
British territory. 

To dispossess them of the fort which they had constructed at 
Niagara, between Lake Ontario and Lake Erie. 

To drive them from the frontiers of Pennsylvania and Virginia, 
and recover the valley of the Ohio. 

The Duke of Cumberland, captain-general of the British army, 
had the organization of this campaign ; and through his patronage 
Major-general Edward Braddock was intrusted with the execution 
of it, being appointed general-in-chief of all the forces in the 
colonies. 

Braddock was a brave and experienced officer ; but his expe- 
rience was that of routine, and rendered him pragmatical and 
obstinate, impatient of novel expedients "not laid down in the 
books," but dictated by emergencies in a "new country," and his 
military precision, which would have been brilliant on parade, was 
a constant obstacle to alert action in the wilderness. 

Braddock was to lead in person the grand enterprise of the cam- 
paign, that destined for the frontiers of Virginia and Pennsylvania. 

He landed on the 20th of February, 1 755, at Hampton, in Virginia, 
and proceeded to Williamsburg to consult with Governor Dinwid- 
dle. Shortly afterwards he was joined there by Commodore Kep- 
pel, whose squadron of two ships-of-war, and several transports, 
had anchored in the Chesapeake. On board of these ships were 
two prime regiments of about five hundred men each ; one com- 
manded by Sir Peter Halket, the other by Colonel Dunbar; 
together with a train of artillery, and the necessary munitions of 
war. The regiments were to be augmented to seven hundred men 
each, by men selected from Virginia companies recently raised. 

Alexandria was fixed upon as the place where the troops should 
disembark, and encamp. The ships were accordingly ordered up 
to that place, and the levies directed to repair thither. 

The plan of the campaign included the use of Indian allies. 
Governor Dinwiddie gave Braddock reason to expect at least four 
hundred Indians to join him at Fort Cumberland. He laid before 
him also contracts that he had made for cattle, and promises that 



70 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the Assembly of Pennsylvania had made of flour; these, with 
other supplies, and a thousand barrels of beef on board of the 
transports, would furnish six months' provisions for four thousand 
men. 

General Braddock apprehended difficulty in procuring wagons 
and horses sufficient to attend him in his march. Two Dutch 
setders, at the foot of the Blue Ridge, had engaged to furnish two 
hundred wagons, and fifteen hundred carrying horses, to be at 
Fort Cumberland early in May. Governor Sharpe was to furnish 
above a hundred wagons for the transportation of stores, on the 
Maryland side of the Potomac. 

Keppel furnished four cannon from his ships, for the attack on 
Fort Duquesne, and thirty picked seamen to assist in dragging 
them over the mountains ; for " soldiers," said he, " cannot be as 
well acquainted with the handling of tackles as seamen." They 
were to aid also in passing the troops and artillery on floats or in 
boats, across the rivers, and were under the command of a mid- 
shipman and Heutenant. 

Trusting to these arrangements, Braddock proceeded to Alex- 
andria. The troops had all been disembarked before his arrival, 
and the Virginia levies were arrived. There were beside two com- 
panies of carpenters ; six of rangers ; and one troop of light horse. 
The levies, having been clothed, were ordered to march imme- 
diately for Winchester, to be armed, and the general gave them in 
charge of Ensign Allen, of the 44th, " to make them as like sol- 
diers as possible." The light horse were retained by the general 
as his escort and body-guard. 

The din and stir of warlike preparation disturbed the quiet of 
Mount Vernon. Washington looked down from his rural retreat 
upon the ships-of-war and transports, as they passed up the Poto- 
mac, with the array of arms gleaming along their decks. The 
booming of cannon echoed among his groves. Alexandria was 
but a few miles distant. Occasionally he mounted his horse, and 
rode to that place ; it was like a garrisoned town, teeming with 
troops, and resounding with the drum and fife. A brilliant cam- 
paign was about to open under the auspices of an experienced 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 71 

general, and with all the means and appurtenances of European 
warfare. How different from the starveling expeditions he had 
hitherto been doomed to conduct ! What an opportunity to efface 
the memory of his recent disaster ! All his thoughts of rural Hfe 
were put to flight. The military part of his character was again 
in the ascendant ; his great desire was to join the expedition as a 
volunteer. 

It was reported to General Braddock. The latter was apprised 
by Governor Dinwiddle and others, of Washington's personal mer- 
its, his knowledge of the country, and his experience in frontier 
service. The consequence was, a letter from one of Braddock's 
aides-de-camp, inviting Washington to join his staff. 

Such a situation offered no emolument or command, and would 
be attended with considerable expense, besides a sacrifice of his 
private interests, having no person in whom he had confidence, to 
take charge of his affairs in his absence ; still he did not hesitate a 
moment to accept the invitation. In the position offered to him, 
all the questions of military rank which had hitherto annoyed him, 
would be obviated. He could indulge his passion for arms with- 
out any sacrifice of dignity, and he looked forward with high anti- 
cipation to an opportunity of acquiring military experience in a 
corps well organized, and thoroughly disciplined, and in the family 
of a commander of acknowledged skill as a tactician. 

On arriving at Alexandria, he was courteously received by the 
general, who expressed in flattering terms the impression he had 
received of his merits. Washington soon appreciated Braddock's 
character. He found him stately and somewhat haughty, exact in 
matters of military etiquette and disciphne, positive in giving an 
opinion, and obstinate in maintaining it ; but of an honorable and 
generous, though somewhat irritable nature. 

There were at that time four governors, besides Dinwiddle, 
assembled at Alexandria, at Braddock's request, to concert a plan 
of military operations — Shirley of Massachusetts, Delancey of New 
York, Sharpe of Maryland, and Morris of Pennsylvania. A grand 
council was held on the 14th of April, composed of General Brad- 
dock, Commodore Keppel, and the governors, at which the 



72 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

general's commission was read, as were his instructions from the 
king, relating to a common fund, to be established by the several 
colonies, toward defraying the expenses of the campaign. The 
governors were prepared to answer on this head, letters to the 
same purport having been addressed to them by Sir Thomas 
Robinson, one of the king's secretaries of state, in the preceding 
month of October. They informed Braddock that they had 
applied to their respective Assemblies for the estabUshment of 
such a fund, but in vain, and gave it as their unanimous opinion, 
that such a fund could never be estabhshed in the colonies without 
the aid of Parliament. They had found it impracticable, also, to 
obtain from their respective governments the proportions expected 
from them by the crown toward military expenses in America ; and 
suggested that ministers should find out some mode of compelling 
them to do it ; and that, in the meantime, the general should 
•make use of his credit upon government, for current expenses, lest 
the expedition should come to a stand. 

In discussing the campaign, the governors were of opinion that 
New York should be made the centre of operations, as it afforded 
easy access by water to the heart of the French possessions in 
Canada. Braddock, however, did not feel at liberty to depart 
from his instructions, which specified the recent establishments of 
the French on the Ohio as the objects of his expedition. 

Niagara and Crown Point were to be attacked about the same 
time with Fort Duquesne, the former by Governor Shirley, with his 
own and Sir William Pepperell's regiments, and some New York 
companies ; the latter by Colonel William Johnson, sole manager 
and director of Indian affairs ; a personage worthy of especial 
note. 

He was a native of Ireland, and had come out to this country in 
1 734, to manage the landed estates owned by his uncle. Commo- 
dore Sir Peter Warren, in the Mohawk country. He had resided 
ever since in the vicinity of the Mohawk river, in the province of 
New York. By his agency, and his dealings with the native tribes, 
he had acquired great wealth, and become a kind of potentate in 
the Indian country. His influence over the Six Nations was said 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 73 

to be unbounded ; and it was principally with the aid of a large 
force of their warriors that it was expected he would accomplish 
his part of the campaign. The end of June was fixed upon as 
the time when the several attacks upon Forts Duquesne, Niagara, 
and Crown Point should be carried into execution ; and the too 
sanguine Braddock anticipated an easy accomplishment of his 
plans. 

The expulsion of the French from the lands wrongfully held by 
them in Nova Scotia, was to be assigned to Colonel Lawrence, 
lieutenant-governor of that province ; we will briefly add, in antici- 
pation, that it was effected by him, with the aid of troops from 
Massachusetts and elsewdiere, led by Lieutenant- colonel Monck- 

ton. 

The business of the council being finished. General Braddock 
would have set out for Frederick, in Maryland, but few wagons or 
teams had yet come to remove the artillery. Washington had 
looked with wonder and dismay at the huge paraphernalia of war, 
and the world of superfluities to be transported across the moun- 
tains, recollecting the difficulties he had experienced in getting 
over them with his nine swivels, and scanty supplies. " If our 
march is to be regulated by the slow movements of the train," 
said he, " it will be tedious, very tedious, indeed." His predic- 
tions excited a sarcastic smile in Braddock, as betraying the 
limited notions of a young provincial officer, little acquainted with 
the march of armies. 

Governor Morris secured for the expedition the services of a 
band of hunters, resolute men, well acquainted with the country, 
and inured to hardships. They were under the command of Cap- 
tain Jack, one of the most remarkable characters of Pennsylvania. 
He was known as the " Black Hunter," the " Black Rifle," the 
" Wild Hunter of the Juniata." Some years before, he had entered 
the woods with a few enterprising companions, built his cabin, 
cleared a little land, and amused himself with the pleasures of 
fishing and hunting. One evening when he returned from a day 
of sport, he found his cabin burnt, his wife and chfldren murdered. 
From that moment he forsook every occupation save that of pro- 



74 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

tecting the frontier inhabitants from the Indians. He was the 
terror of the Indians and the consolation of the whites. On one 
occasion, near the Juniata, in the middle of a dark night, a family 
were suddenly awakened from sleep by the report of a gun ; they 
jumped from their beds, and by the glimmering light from the 
chimney saw an Indian fall to rise no more. The open door 
exposed to view the wild hunter. '' I have saved your lives," he 
cried, then turned and was buried in the gloom of night. Captain 
Jack was at present protecting the settlements on the Cono- 
cocheague ; but promised to march by a circuitous route and join 
Braddock with his hunters. 

General Braddock set out from Alexandria on the 20th of April. 
Washington remained behind a few days to arrange his affairs, and 
then rejoined him at Frederick, in Maryland. The troubles of 
Braddock had already commenced. The Virginian contractors 
failed to fulfil their engagement ; of all the immense means of 
transportation so confidently promised, but fifteen wagons and 
a hundred draft-horses had arrived, and there was no prospect of 
more. There was equal disappointment in provisions, both as to 
quantity and quality ; and he had to send round the country to 
buy cattle for the subsistence of the troops. 

Fortunately while the general was venting his spleen in anath- 
emas against army contractors, Benjamin Franklin arrived at Fred- 
erick. That eminent man, then about forty-nine years of age, had 
been for many years member of the Pennsylvania Assembly, and 
was now postmaster-general for America. The Assembly under- 
stood that Braddock was incensed against them, supposing them 
adverse to the service of the war. They had procured Franklin 
to wait upon him, not as if sent by them, but as if he came in his 
capacity of postmaster-general, to arrange for the sure and speedy 
transmission of dispatches between the commander-in-chief and 
the governors of the provinces. 

He was well received, and became a daily guest at the general's 
table. In his autobiography he gives us an instance of the blind 
confidence and fatal prejudices by which Braddock was deluded 
throughout this expedition. " In conversation with him one day," 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 75 

writes Franklin, "he was giving me some account of his intended 
progress. 'After taking Fort Duquesne,' said he, ' I am to proceed 
to Niagara ; and, having taken that, to Frontenac, if the season 
will allow time ; and I suppose it will, for Duquesne can hardly 
detain me above three or four days ; and then I can see nothing 
that can obstruct my march to Niagara.' 

"Having before revolved in my mind," continues Franklin, "the 
long line his army must make in their march by a very narrow 
road, to be cut for them through the woods and bushes, and also 
what I had heard of a former defeat of fifteen hundred French, 
who invaded the Illinois country, I had conceived some doubts 
and some fears for the event of the campaign ; but I ventured 
only to say, 'To be sure, sir, if you arrive well before Duquesne 
with these fine troops, so well provided with artillery, the fort, 
though completely fortified, and assisted with a very strong gar- 
rison, can probably make but a short resistance. The only danger 
I apprehend of obstruction to your march is from the ambuscades 
of the Indians, who, by constant practice, are dexterous in laying 
and executing them ; and the slender line, nearly four miles long, 
which your army must make, may expose it to be attacked by 
surprise on its flanks, and to be cut like thread into several pieces, 
which, from their distance, cannot come up in time to support one 
another.' 

" He smiled at my ignorance, and replied : ' These savages may 
indeed be a formidable enemy to raw American mihtia, but upon 
the king's regular and disciplined troops, sir, it is impossible they 
should make an impression.' I was conscious of an impropriety 
in my disputing with a military man in matters of his profession, 
and said no more." 

As the whole delay of the army was caused by the want of con- 
veyances, Franklin observed one day to the general that it was a 
pity the troops had not been landed in Pennsylvania, where almost 
every farmer had his wagon. "Then, sir," rephed Braddock, "you 
who are a man of interest there can probably procure them for me, 
and I beg you will." Franklin consented. An instrument in writ- 
ing was drawn up, empowering him to contract for one hundred 



76 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and fifty wagons, with four horses to each wagon, and fifteen hun- 
dred saddle or pack horses for the service of His Majesty's forces, 
to be at Wills' Creek on or before the 20th of May; and he promptly 
departed for Lancaster to execute the commission. 

After his departure, Braddock, attended by his staff and his guard 
of light horse, set off for Wills' Creek by the way of Winchester, the 
road along the north side of the Potomac not being yet made. 
"This gave him," writes Washington, "a good opportunity to see 
the absurdity of the route, and of damning it very heartily." 
Three of Washington's horses were knocked up before they reached 
Winchester, and he had to purchase others. This was a severe 
drain of his campaigning purse ; fortunately he was in the neigh- 
borhood of Greenway Court, and was enabled to replenish it by a 
loan from his old friend Lord Fairfax. 

The discomforts of the rough road were increased with the gen- 
eral by his travelling with some degree of state in a chariot which 
he had purchased of Governor Sharpe. In this he dashed by Dun- 
bar's division of the troops, which he overtook near Wills' Creek ; 
his body-guard of light horse galloping on each side of his chariot, 
and his staff accompanying him ; the drums beating the Grenadier's 
March as he passed. In this style, too, he arrived at Fort Cum- 
berland, amid a thundering salute of seventeen guns. By this 
time the general discovered that he was not in a region fitted for 
such display, and his traveUing chariot was abandoned at Fort 
Cumberland ; otherwise it would soon have become a wreck among 
the mountains beyond. 

By the 19th of May, the forces were assembled at Fort Cumber- 
land. The two royal regiments, originally one thousand strong, 
were now increased to fourteen hundred, by men chosen from the 
Maryland and Virginia levies ; two provincial companies of car- 
penters, or pioneers, thirty men each, with subalterns and cap- 
tains ; a company of guides, composed of a captain, two aids, and 
ten men ; the troop of Virginia light horse, commanded by Cap- 
tain Stewart ; the detachment of thirty sailors with their officers, 
and the remnants of two independent companies from New York, 
one of which was commanded by Captain Horatio Gates, of whom 
we shall have to speak hereafter. 



THE GREA T FRENCH WAR. 77 

At Fort Cumberland, Washington had an opportunity of seeing 
a force encamped according to the plan approved of by the coun- 
cil of war ; and miHtary tactics, enforced with all the precision of 
a martinet. The roll of each company was called over morning, 
noon, and night. There was strict examination of arms and ac- 
coutrements; the commanding officer of each company being 
answerable for their being kept in good order. The general was 
very particular in regard to the appearance and drill of the Vir- 
ginia recruits and companies, whom he had put under the rigor- 
ous discipline of Ensign x\llen. " They performed their evolutions 
and firings as well as could be expected," writes Captain Orme, 
" but their languid, spiritless, and unsoldier-like appearance, com- 
bined with the lowness and ignorance of most of their officers, 
gave little hopes of their future good behavior." He doubtless 
echoed the opinion of the general ; how completely were both to 
be undeceived as to their estimate of these troops ! 

The general held a levee in his tent every morning from ten 
to eleven. He was strict as to the morals of the camp. Drunken- 
ness was severely punished. Divine service was performed every 
Sunday, at the head of the colors of each regiment, by the chap- 
lain. Convivial life was also maintained even in the wilderness ; 
for the general is said to have been somewhat of a high liver, 
and to have had with him " two good cooks, who could make an 
excellent ragout out of a pair of boots, had they but materials to 
toss them up with." 

There was great detention at the fort, caused by the want of 
forage and supplies, the road not having been finished from Phila- 
delphia. Mr. Richard Peters, the secretary of Governor Morris, 
was in camp, to attend to the matter. He had to bear the brunt 
of Braddock's complaints. The general declared he would not stir 
from Wills' Creek until he had the governor's assurance that the 
road would be opened in time. Mr. Peters requested guards to 
protect the men while at work, from attacks by the Indians. Brad- 
dock swore he would not furnish guards for the wood-cutters, — 
" let Pennsylvania do it!" He scoffed at the talk about danger 
from Indians. Peters endeavored to make him sensible of the 



78 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

peril which threatened him in this respect. Should an army of 
them, led by French officers, beset him in his march, he would 
not be able, with all his strength and military skill, to reach Fort 
Duquesne without a body of rangers, as well on foot as horseback. 
The general, however, " despised his observations." Still, guards 
had ultimately to be provided, or the work on the road would 
have been abandoned. 

Braddock, in fact, was completely chagrined and disappointed 
about the Indians. The Cherokees and Catawbas, whom Dinwid- 
die had given him reason to expect in such numbers, never 
arrived. The Delaware chiefs promised the general they would 
collect their warriors together, and meet him on his march, but 
they never kept their word. 

During the halt of the troops at Wills' Creek, Washington had 
been sent to Williamsburg to bring on ^4000 for the mihtary 
chest. He returned after a fortnight's absence, escorted from 
Winchester by eight men, "which eight men," writes he, "were 
two days assembling, but I believe would not have been more than 
as many seconds dispersing, if I had been attacked." 

He found the general out of all patience and temper at the 
delays and disappointments in regard to horses, wagons, and 
forage, making no allowances for the difficulties incident to a new 
country, and to the novel and great demands upon its scanty and 
scattered resources. He accused the army contractors of want of 
faith, honor, and honesty ; and in his moments of passion, which 
were many, extended the stigma to the whole country. This stung 
the patriotic sensibility of Washington, and overcame his usual 
self-command, and the proud and passionate commander was 
occasionally surprised by a well-merited rebuke from his aide-de- 
camp. 

Washington, moreover, represented to him the difficulties he 
would encounter in attempting to traverse the mountains with such 
a train of wheel-carriages, assuring him it would be the most 
arduous part of the campaign ; and recommended, from his own 
experience, the substitution, as much as possible, of pack-horses. 
Braddock, however, had not been sufficiently harassed by frontier 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 79 

campaigning to depart from his European modes, or to be swayed 
in liis military operations by so green a counsellor. 

At length the general was relieved from present perplexities by 
the arrival of the horses and wagons which Franklin had under- 
taken to procure. That eminent man, with his characteristic 
promptness and unwearied exertions, and by his great personal 
popularity, had obtained them from the reluctant Pennsylvania 
farmers, being obliged to pledge his own responsibility for their 
being fully remunerated. He performed this laborious task out 
of pure zeal for the public service, neither expecting nor receiving 
emolument; and, in fact, experiencing subsequently great delay 
and embarrassment before he was relieved from the pecuniary 
responsibilities thus patriotically incurred. 

The arrival of the conveyances put Braddock in good humor 
with Pennsylvania. " I hope," said he, in a letter to Governor 
Morris, " that we shall pass a merry Christmas together." On 
the loth of June, he set out from Fort Cumberland with his 
aides-de-camp, and others of his staff, and his body-guard of light 
horse. Sir Peter Halket, with his brigade, had marched three 
days previously ; and a detachment of six hundred men had been 
employed upwards of ten days in cutting down trees, removing 
rocks, and opening a road. 

The march over the mountain proved, as Washington had fore- 
told, a "tremendous undertaking." It was with difficulty the 
heavily laden wagons could be dragged up the steep and rugged 
roads, newly made, or imperfectly repaired. Often they extended 
for three or four miles in a straggling and broken line, with the 
soldiers so dispersed, in guarding them, that an attack on any side 
would have thrown the whole into confusion. 

By the time the advanced corps had struggled over two moun- 
tains, and through the intervening forests, and reached (i6th June) 
the Little Meadows, General Braddock had become aware of the 
difference between campaigning in a new country, or on the old 
well-beaten battle-grounds of Europe. He now of his own accord 
turned to Washington for advice, though it must have been a sore 
trial to his pride to seek it of so young a man ; but he had by this 



80 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

time sufficient proof of his sagacity, and his knowledge of the 
frontier. 

Thus unexpectedly called on, Washington gave his counsel with 
becoming modesty, but with his accustomed clearness. There 
was just now an opportunity to strike an effective blow at Fort 
Duquesne, but it might be lost by delay. The garrison, according 
to credible reports, was weak ; large reinforcements and supplies, 
which were on their way, would be detained by the drought, which 
rendered the river by which they must come low and unnavigable. 
The blow must be struck before they could arrive. He advised 
the general, therefore, to divide his forces ; leave one part to come 
on with the stores and baggage, and all the cumbrous appurte- 
nances of an army, and to throw himself in the advance with the 
other part, composed of his choicest troops, lightened of everything 
superfluous that might impede a rapid march. 

His advice was adopted. Twelve hundred men selected out of 
all the companies, and furnished with ten field-pieces, were to form 
the first division, their provisions and other necessaries to be car- 
ried on pack-horses. The second division, with all the stores, 
munitions, and heavy baggage, was to be brought on by Colonel 
Dunbar. 

The least practicable part of the arrangement was with regard to 
the officers of the advance. Washington had urged a retrench- 
ment of their baggage and camp equipage, that as many of their 
horses as possible might be used as pack-horses. Here was the 
difficulty. Brought up, many of them, in fashionable and luxurious 
life, or the loitering indulgence of country quarters, they were so 
encumbered with what they considered indispensable necessaries, 
that out of two hundred and twelve horses generally appropriated 
to their use, not more than a dozen could be spared by them for 
the public service. Washington, in his own case, acted up to the 
advice he had given. He retained no more clothing and effects 
with him than would about half fill a portmanteau, and gave up his 
best steed as a pack-horse — which he never heard of afterwards. 

During the halt at the Little Meadows, Captain Jack and his 
band of forest rangers, made their appearance in the camp ; armed 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR, 81 

and equipped with rifle, knife, hunting-shirts, leggings, and mocca- 
sins, and looking almost like a band of Indians as they issued from 
the woods. The captain asked an interview with the general, by 
whom, it would seem, he was not expected. Braddock received 
him in his tent, in his usual stiff and stately manner. The " Black 
Rifle " spoke of himself and his foHowers as men inured to hard- 
ships, and accustomed to deal with Indians, who preferred stealth 
and stratagem to open warfare. He requested his company should 
be employed as a reconnoitering party to beat up the Indians in 
their lurking-places and ambuscades. Braddock, who had a sov- 
ereign contempt for the chivalry of the woods, and despised their 
boasted strategy, repHed to the hero of the Pennsylvania settle- 
ments in a manner to which he had not been accustomed. " There 
was time enough," he said, " for making arrangements ; and he 
had experienced troops, on whom he could completely rely for all 
purposes." 

Captain Jack withdrew, indignant at so haughty a reception, 
and informed his leathern-clad followers of his rebuff. They forth- 
with shouldered their rifles, turned their backs upon the camp, 
and, headed by the captain, departed in Indian file through the 
woods, for the usual scenes of their exploits, where men knew 
their value, the banks of the Juniata or the Conococheague. 

On the 19th of June Braddock's first division set out, with less 
than thirty carriages, including those that transported ammunition 
for the artillery, all strongly horsed. The Indians marched with 
the advanced party. 

Washington was disappointed in his anticipations of a rapid 
march. The general, though he had adopted his advice in the 
main, could not carry it out in detail. His military education was 
in the way ; he could not stoop to the make-shift expedients of a 
new country, where every difiiculty is encountered and mastered 
in a rough-and-ready style. "I found," said Washington, "that 
instead of pushing on with vigor, without regarding a little rough 
road, they were halting to level every molehill, and to erect 
bridges over every brook, by which means we were four days in 
getting twelve miles." 



82 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

For several days Washington had suffered from fever, accom- 
panied by intense headache, and his illness increased in violence 
to such a degree that he was unable to ride, and had to be con- 
veyed for a part of the time in a covered wagon. 

At the great crossings of the Youghiogheny the general assigned 
him a guard, provided him with necessaries, and requested him to 
remain, under care of his physician. Dr. Craik, until the arrival of 
Colonel Dunbar's detachment, which was two days' march in the 
rear ; giving him his word of honor that he should, at all events, 
be enabled to join the main division before it reached the French 
fort. 

This kind solicitude on the part of Braddock shows the real 
estimation in which Washington was held by that officer. But 
notwithstanding these kind assurances, it was with gloomy feelings 
that Washington saw the troops depart, fearful he might not be 
able to rejoin them in time for the attack upon the fort, which, he 
assured his brother aide-de-camp, he would not miss for five hun- 
dred pounds. 

Leaving Washington at the Youghiogheny, we will follow the 
march of Braddock. In the course of the first day (June 24th), 
he came to a deserted Indian camp ; judging from the number of 
wigwams, there must Have been about one hundred and seventy 
warriors. The next morning at daybreak, three men venturing 
beyond the sentinels were shot and scalped ; parties were imme- 
diately sent out to scour the woods, and drive in the stray horses. 
The day's march passed by the Great Meadows and Fort Neces- 
sity, the scene of Washington's capitulation. Several Indians were 
seen hovering in the woods, and the light horse and Indian allies 
were sent out to surround them, but did not succeed. In crossing 
a mountain beyond the Great Meadows, the carriages had to be 
lowered with the assistance of the sailors, by means of tackle. The 
camp for the night was about two miles beyond Fort Necessity. 
Several French and Indians endeavored to reconnoiter it, but 
were fired upon by the advanced sentinels. 

The following day (26th) there was a laborious march of but 
four miles, owing to the difficulties of the road. The evening 



TORT DD QITEJ 

(noyv Pittshurg/iJ 



Roads 3=== 
Braddock^s Boad- 




Scale of miles 



Braddocks 
Route 

1755. 






To face page 82. 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 83 

halt was at another deserted Indian camp, strongly posted on a 
high rock, with a steep and narrow ascent; it had a spring in 
the middle, and stood at the termination of the Indian path to 
the Monongahela. By this pass the party had come which 
attacked Washington the year before, in the Great Meadows. 
The Indians and French too, who were hovering about the army, 
had just left this camp. The fires they had left were yet burning. 
The French had inscribed their names on some of the trees with 
insulting bravadoes, and the Indians had designated in triumph 
the scalps they had taken two days previously. A party was sent 
out with guides, to follow their tracks and fall on them in the 
night, but again without success. In fact, it was the Indian boast, 
that throughout this march of Braddock, they saw him every day 
from the mountains, and expected to be able to shoot down his 
soldiers " like pigeons." 

The march continued to be toilful and difficult ; on one day it 
did not exceed two miles. In clearing their guns the men were 
ordered to draw the charge, instead of firing it off. No fire was to 
be lighted in front of the pickets. At night the men were to take 
their arms into the tents with them. Further on the precautions 
became still greater. On the advanced pickets the men were 
in two divisions, relieving each other every two hours. Half 
remained on guard with fixed bayonets, the other half lay down by 
their arms. The picket sentinels were doubled. On the 4th of 
July they encamped at Thicketty Run. The country was less 
mountainous and rocky, and the woods, consisting chiefly of white 
pine, were more open. The general now supposed himself to be 
within thirty miles of Fort Duquesne. Ever since his halt at the 
deserted camp on the rock beyond the Great Meadows, he had 
endeavored to prevail upon his Indians to scout in the direction 
of the fort, and bring him intelligence, but never could succeed. 
They had probably been deterred by the number of French and 
Indian tracks. This day, however, two consented to reconnoiter ; 
and shortly after their departure, Christopher Gist, the resolute 
pioneer, who acted as guide to the general, likewise set off as a 
scout. 



84 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The Indians returned on the 6th. They had been close to 
Fort Duquesne. There were no additional works there ; they saw 
a few boats under the fort, and one with a white flag coming down 
the Ohio ; but there were few men to be seen, and few tracks of 
any. They came upon an unfortunate officer, shooting within 
half a mile of the fort, and brought back his scalp. None 
of the passes between the camp and fort were occupied ; they 
believed there were few men abroad reconnoitering. Gist re- 
turned soon after them. His account corroborated theirs ; but 
he had seen a smoke in a valley between the camp and the fort, 
made probably by some scouting party. He had intended to 
prowl about the fort at night, but had been discovered and pur- 
sued by two Indians, and narrowly escaped with his life. 

Washington now considered himself sufficiently recovered to 
rejoin the troops, and his only anxiety was lest he should not be 
able to do it in time for the great blow. He was rejoiced, .there- 
fore, on the 3d of July, by the arrival of an advanced party of one 
hundred men convoying provisions. Being still too weak to mount 
his horse, he set off with the escort in a covered wagon ; and after 
a most fatiguing journey, over mountain and through forest, 
reached Braddock's camp on the 8th of July. It was on the east 
side of the Monongahela, about two miles from the river, and 
about fifteen miles from Fort Duquesne. 

In consequence of adhering to technical rules and military 
forms, General Braddock had consumed a month in marching 
little more than a hundred miles. The tardiness of his progress 
was regarded with surprise and impatience even in Europe, where 
his patron, the Duke of Brunswick, was watching the events of the 
campaign he had planned. "The Duke," writes Horace Walpole, 
" is much dissatisfied at the slowness of General Braddock, 7vho 
does not march as if he was at all impatient to be scalped''' The 
insinuation of the satirical wit was unmerited. Braddock was a 
stranger to fear ; but in his movements he was fettered by system. 

Washington was warmly received on his arrival. He Avas just 
in time, for the attack upon Fort Duquesne was to be made on 
the following day. The neighboring country had l)een reconnoi- 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 85 

tered to determine upon a plan of attack. The fort stood on the 
same side of the Monongahela with the camp ; but there was a 
narrow pass between them of about two miles, with the river on 
the left and a very high mountain on the right, and in its present 
state quite impassable for carriages. The route determined on 
was to cross the Monongahela by a ford immediately opposite to 
the camp ; proceed along the west bank of the river for about five 
miles, then recross by another ford to the eastern side, and push 
on to the fort. The river at these fords was shallow, and the 
banks were not steep. 

According to the plan of arrangement, Lieutenant-colonel Gage, 
with the advance, was to cross the river before daybreak, march 
to the second ford, and recrossing there, take post to secure the 
passage of the main force. The advance was to be composed of 
two companies of grenadiers, one hundred and sixty infantry, the 
independent company of Captain Horatio Gates, and two six- 
pounders. 

Washington, who had already seen enough of regular troops to 
doubt their infallibility in wild bush-fighting, and who knew the 
dangerous nature of the ground they were to traverse, ventured to 
suggest, that on the following day the Virginia rangers, being ac- 
customed to the country and to Indian warfare, might be thrown 
in the advance. The proposition drew an angry reply from the 
general, indignant very probably, that a young provincial officer 
should presume to school a veteran like himself. 

Early next morning (July gth), before daylight, Colonel Gage 
crossed with the advance. He was followed, at some distance, 
by Sir John St. Clair, quartermaster-general, with a working party 
of two hundred and fifty men, to make roads for the artillery and 
baggage. They had with them their wagons of tools, and two 
six-pounders. A party of about thirty savages rushed out of the 
woods as Colonel Gage advanced, but were put to flight before 
they had done any harm. 

By sunrise the main body turned out in full uniform. At the 
beating of " the general," their arms, which had been cleaned the 
night before, were charged with fresh cartridges. The officers 



86 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

were perfectly equipped. All looked as if arrayed for a fete, 
rather than a battle. Washington, who was still weak and unwell, 
mounted his horse, and joined the staft' of the general, who was 
scrutinizing everything with the eye of a martinet. As it was sup- 
posed the enemy would be on the watch for the crossing of the 
troops, it had been agreed that they should do it in the greatest 
order, with bayonets fixed, colors flying, and drums and fifes beat- 
ing and playing. They accordingly made a gallant appearance as 
they forded the Monongahela, and wound along its banks, and 
through the open forests, gleaming and glittering in morning sun- 
shine, and stepping buoyantly to the " Grenadiers' March." 

Washington, with his keen and youthful relish for mihtary 
affairs, was delighted with their perfect order and equipment, so 
diff"erent from the rough bush-fighters, to which he had been 
accustomed. Roused to new life, he forgot his recent ailments, 
and broke forth in expressions of enjoyment and admiration, as 
he rode in company with his fellow aides-de-camp, Orme and 
Morris. Often, in after life, he used to speak of the effect upon 
him of the first sight of a well-disciphned European army, march- 
ing in high confidence and bright array, on the eve of a battle. 

About noon they reached the second ford. Gage, with the 
advance, was on the opposite side of the Monongahela, posted 
according to orders ; but the river bank had not been sufficiently 
sloped. The artillery and baggage drew up along the beach and 
halted until one o'clock, when the second crossing took place, drums 
beating, fifes playing, and colors flying as before. When all had 
passed, there was again a halt close by a small stream called 
Frazier's Run, until the general arranged the order of march. 

First went the advance, under Gage, preceded by the engineers 
and guides, and six light horsemen. Then, Sir John St. Clair and 
the working party, with their wagons and the two six-pounders. 
On each side were thrown out four flanking parties. Then, at 
some distance, the general was to follow with the main body, the 
artillery and baggage were preceded and flanked by light horse 
and squads of infantry ; while the Virginian and other provincial 
troops were to form the rearguard. 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 87 

The ground before them was level until about half a mile from 
the river, where a rising ground, covered with long grass, low 
bushes, and scattered trees, sloped gently up to a range of hills. 
The whole country, generally speaking, was a forest, with no clear 
opening but the road, which was about twelve feet wide, and 
flanked by two ravines, concealed by trees and thickets. 

Had Braddock been schooled in the warfare of the woods, or 
had he adopted the suggestions of Washington, which he rejected 
so impatiently, he would have thrown out Indian scouts or Vir- 
ginian rangers in the advance, and on the flanks, to beat up the 
woods and ravines ; but, as has been sarcastically observed, he 
suffered his troops to march forward through the centre of the 
plain, with merely their usual guides and flanking parties, " as if in 
a review in St. James' Park." 

It was now near two o'clock. The advanced party and the 
working party had crossed the plain and were ascending the rising 
ground. Braddock was about to follow with the main body and 
had given the word to march, when he heard an excessively quick 
and heavy firing in front. Washington, who was with the general, 
surmised that the evil he had apprehended had come to pass. 
For want of scouting parties ahead, the advance parties were sud- 
denly and warmly attacked. Braddock ordered Lieutenant-colonel 
Burton to hasten to their assistance with the vanguard of the 
main body, eight hundred strong. The residue, four hundred, 
were halted, and posted to protect the artillery and baggage. 

The firing continued with fearful yelling. There was a terrible 
uproar. By the general's orders an aide-de-camp spurred forward 
to bring him an account of the nature of the attack. Without 
waiting for his return the general himself, finding the turmoil 
increase, moved forward, leaving Sir Peter Halket with the com- 
mand of the baggage. 

The van of the advance had indeed been taken by surprise. 
It was composed of two companies of pioneers to cut the road, 
and two flank companies of grenadiers to protect them. Sud- 
denly the engineer who preceded them to mark out the road gave 
the alarm, " French and Indians ! " A body of them was approach- 



88 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ing rapidly, cheered on by a Frenchman in gayly fringed hunting- 
shirt, whose gorget showed him to be an officer. There was 
sharp firing on both sides at first. Several of the enemy fell; 
among them their leader ; but a murderous fire broke out from 
among trees and a ravine on the right, and the woods resounded 
with unearthly whoops and yellings. The Indian rifle was at work, 
levelled by unseen hands. Most of the grenadiers and many of 
the pioneers were shot down. The survivors were driven in on 
the advance. 

Gage ordered his men to fix bayonets and form in order of bat- 
tle. They did so in hurry and trepidation. He would have scaled 
a hill on the right whence there was the severest firing. Not a 
platoon would quit the line of march. They were more dismayed 
by the yells than by the rifles of the unseen savages. The latter 
extended themselves along the hill and in the ravines ; but their 
whereabouts was only known by their demoniac cries and the puffs 
of smoke from their rifles. The soldiers fired wherever they saw 
the smoke. Their officers tried in vain to restrain them until they 
should see their foe. All orders were unheeded ; in their fright 
they shot at random, killing some of their own flanking parties, 
and of the vanguard, as they came running in. The covert fire 
grew more intense. In a short time most of the officers and 
many of the men of the advance were kifled or wounded. Colonel 
Gage himself received a wound. The advance fefl back in dis- 
may upon Sir John St. Clair's corps, which was equally dismayed. 
The cannon i)elonging to it were deserted. Colonel Burton had 
come up with the reinforcement, and was forming his men to face 
the rising ground on the right, when both of the advanced detach- 
ments fell back upon him, and all now was confusion. 

By this time the general was upon the ground. He tried to 
rally the men. " They would fight," they said, " if they could see 
their enemy ; but it was useless to fire at trees and bushes, and 
they could not stand to be shot down by an invisible foe." The 
colors were advanced in different places to separate the men of 
the two regiments. The general ordered the officers to form the 
men, tell them off into small divisions, and advance with them ; 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 89 

but the soldiers could not be prevailed upon either by threats or 
entreaties. The Virginia troops, accustomed to the Indian mode 
of fighting, scattered themselves, and took post behind trees, 
whence they could pick off the lurking foe. In this way they, in 
some degree, protected the regulars. Washington advised Gen- 
eral Braddock to adopt the same plan with the regulars ; but he 
persisted in forming them into platoons ; consequently they were 
cut down from behind logs and trees as fast as they could advance. 
Several attempted to take to the trees, without orders, but the 
general stormed at them, called them cowards, and even struck 
them with the flat of his sword. Several of the Virginians, who 
had taken post and were doing good service in this manner, were 
slain by the fire of the regulars, directed wherever a smoke ap- 
peared among the trees. 

The officers behaved with consummate bravery ; and Washing- 
ton beheld with admiration those who, in camp or on the march, 
had appeared to him to have an almost effeminate regard for per- 
sonal ease and convenience, now exposing themselves to imminent 
death, with a courage that kindled with the thickening horrors. 
In the vain hope of inspiriting the men to drive off the enemy 
from the flanks and regain the cannon, they would dash forward 
singly or in groups. They were invariably shot down ; for the 
Indians aimed from their coverts at every one on horseback, or 
who appeared to have command. 

Some were killed by random shot of their own men, who, 
crowded in masses, fired with affrighted rapidity, but without aim. 
Soldiers in the front ranks were killed by those in the rear. Be- 
tween friend and. foe, the slaughter of the officers was terrible. 
All this while the woods resounded with the unearthly yeflings of 
the savages, and now and then one of them, hideously painted, 
and ruffling with feathered crest, would rush forth to scalp an 
officer who had fallen, or seize a horse gafloping wildly without a 
rider. 

Throughout this disastrous day, Washington distinguished him- 
self by his courage and presence of mind. His brother aides, 
Orme and Morris, were wounded and disabled early in the action. 



90 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and the whole duty of carrying the orders of the general devolved 
on him. His danger was imminent and incessant. He was in 
every part of the field, a conspicuous mark for the murderous rifle. 
Two horses were shot under him. Four bullets passed through 
his coat. His escape without a wound was almost miraculous. 
Dr. Craik, who was on the field attending to the wounded, watched 
him with anxiety as he rode about in the most exposed manner, 
and used to say that he expected every moment to see him fall. 
At one time he was sent to the main body to bring the artillery 
into action. All there was likewise in confusion ; for the Indians 
had extended themselves along the ravine so as to flank the 
reserve and carry slaughter into the ranks. Sir Peter Halket had 
been shot down at the head of his regiment. The men who should 
have served the guns were paralyzed. Had they raked the ravines 
with grapeshot the day might have been saved. In his ardor 
Washington sprang from his horse, wheeled and pointed a brass 
field-piece with his own hand, and directed an effective discharge 
into the woods ; but neither his efforts nor example were of avail. 
The men could not be kept to the guns. 

Braddock still remained in the centre of the field, in the desper- 
ate hope of retrieving the fortunes of the day. The Virginia 
rangers, who had been most efficient in covering his position, 
were nearly all killed or wounded. His secretary, young Shirley, 
had fallen by his side. Many of his officers had been slain within 
his sight, and many of his guard of Virginia light horse. Five 
horses had been killed under him ; still he kept his ground, vainly 
endeavoring to check the flight of his men, or at least to effect 
their retreat in good order. At length a buffet passed through his 
right arm, and lodged itself in his lungs. He fell from his horse, 
but was caught by Captain Stewart of the Virginia guards, who, 
with the assistance of another American, and a servant, placed 
him in a tumbril. It was with much difficulty they got him out 
of the field — in his despair he desired to be left there. 

The rout now became complete. Baggage, stores, artiffery, 
everything was abandoned. The wagoners took each a horse out 
of his team, and fled. The officers were swept off with the men 



rilE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 91 

in this headlong flight. It was rendered more precipitate by the 
shouts and yells of the savages, numbers of whom rushed forth 
from their coverts, and pursued the fugidves to the river side, 
killing several as they dashed across in tumultuous confusion. 
Fortunately for the latter, the victors gave up the pursuit in their 
eagerness to collect the spoil. 

The shattered army continued its flight after it had crossed the 
Monongahela, a wretched wreck of the brilliant little force that 
had recently gleamed along its banks, confident of victory. Out 
of eighty-six ofiicers, twenty-six had been killed, and thirty-six 
wounded. The number of rank and file killed and wounded 
was upwards of seven hundred. The Virginia corps had suffered 
the most ; one company had been almost annihilated ; another, 
besides those killed and wounded in the ranks, had lost all its offi- 
cers, even to the corporal. 

About a hundred men were brought to a halt about a quarter 
of a mile from the ford of the river. Here was Braddock, with 
his wounded aides-de-camp and some of his officers, Dr. Craik 
dressing his wounds, and Washington attending him with faithful 
assiduity. Braddock was stiU able to give orders, and had a faint 
hope of being able to keep possession of the ground until rein- 
forced. Most of the men were stationed in a very advantageous 
spot about two hundred yards from the road ; and Lieutenant- 
colonel Burton posted out small parties and sentinels. Before an 
hour had elapsed most of the men had stolen off. Being thus 
deserted, Braddock and his officers continued their retreat ; he 
would have mounted his horse, but was unable, and had to be 
carried by soldiers. Orme and Morris were placed on litters borne 
by horses. They were subsequently joined by Colonel Gage with 
eighty men whom he had rallied. 

Washington, in the meantime, notwithstanding his weak state, 
being found most efficient in frontier service, was sent to Colonel 
Dunbar's camp, forty miles distant, with orders for him to hurry 
forward provisions, hospital stores, and wagons for the wounded, 
under the escort of tsvo grenadier companies. It was a hard and 
a melancholy ride throughout the night and the following day. 



92 LIFE OF WASHING TOX. 

The tidings of the defeat preceded him, borne by the wagoners, 
who had mounted their horses, on Braddock's fall, and fled from 
the field of battle. They had arrived, haggard, at Dunbar's camp 
at mid-day, the Indian yells still ringing in their ears. "All 
was lost ! " they cried. " Braddock was killed ! They had seen 
wounded officers borne off from the field in bloody sheets ! The 
troops were all cut to pieces ! " A panic fell upon the camp. 
The drums beat to arms. Many of the soldiers, wagoners, and 
attendants, took to flight ; but most of them were forced back by 
the sentinels. 

Washington arrived at the camp in the evening, and found the 
agitation stifl prevailing. The orders which he brought were exe- 
cuted during the night, and he was in the saddle early in the 
morning accompanying the convoy of supplies. At Gist's planta- 
tion, about thirteen miles off, he met Gage and his scanty force 
escorting Braddock and his wounded officers. Captain Stewart 
and a sad remnant of the Virginia light horse still accompanied 
the general as his guard. The captain had been unremitting in 
his attentions to him during the retreat. There was a halt of one 
day at Dunbar's camp for the repose and relief of the wounded. 
On the 13th they resumed their melancholy march, and that night 
reached the Great Meadows. 

The proud spirit of Braddock was broken by his defeat. He 
remained silent the first evening after the battle, only ejaculating 
at night, " Who would have thought it ! " He was equally silent 
the following day ; yet hope stifl seemed to linger in his breast, 
from another ejaculation : " We shall know better how to deal 
with them another time ! " 

He was grateful for the attentions paid to him by Captain 
Stewart and Washington, and more than once, it is said, expressed 
his admiration of the gallantry displayed by the Virginians in the 
action. It is said, moreover, that in his last moments, he apolo- 
gized to Washington for the petulance with which he had rejected 
his advice, and bequeathed to him his favorite charger and his 
faithful servant, Bishop, who had helped to convey him from the 
field. 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 93 

He died on the night of the 13th, at the Great Meadows, the 
place of Washington's discomfiture in the previous year. His 
obsequies were performed before break of day. The chaplain 
having been wounded, Washington read the funeral service. All 
was done in sadness and without parade, so as not to attract the 
attention of lurking savages, who might discover and outrage his 
grave. It is doubtful even whether a volley was fired over it, that 
last military honor which he had recently paid to the remains of 
an Indian warrior. The place of his sepulture, however, is still 
known, and pointed out. 

Reproach spared him not, even when in his grave. The failure 
of the expedition was attributed, both in England and America, 
to his obstinacy, his technical pedantry, and his military conceit. 
He had been continually warned to be on his guard against am- 
bush and surprise, but without avail. Had he taken the advice 
urged on him by Washington and others, to employ scouting par- 
ties of Indians and rangers, he would never have been so signally 
surprised and defeated. Still his dauntless conduct on the field 
of battle shows him to have been a man of fearless spirit ; and he 
was universally allowed to be an accomplished disciplinarian. His 
melancholy end, too, disarms censure of its asperity. Whatever 
may have been his faults and errors, he in a manner expiated them 
by the hardest lot that can befall a brave soldier, ambitious of 
renown — -an unhonored grave in a strange land, a memory clouded 
by misfortune, and a name forever coupled with defeat. 

The obsequies of the unfortunate Braddock being finished, the 
escort continued its retreat with the sick and wounded. On the 
17th, the sad cavalcade reached Fort Cumberland, and were re- 
lieved from the incessant apprehension of pursuit. Dunbar arrived 
shordy afterward with the remainder of the army. No one seems 
to have shared more largely in the panic than that officer. From 
the moment he received tidings of the defeat, his camp had be- 
come a scene of confusion. At Cumberland his forces amounted 
to fifteen hundred effective men ; enough for a brave stand to 
protect the frontier, and recover some of the lost honor ; but he 
merely paused to leave the sick and wounded under care of two 



94 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Virginia and Maryland companies, and then continued his hasty 
flight through the country, not thinking himself safe, as was sneer- 
ingly intimated, until he arrived in Philadelphia, where the inhab- 
itants could protect him. 

The true reason why the enemy did not pursue the retreating 
army was not known until some time afterwards, and added to the 
disgrace of the defeat. They were not the main force of the 
French, but a mere detachment of 72 regulars, 146 Canadians, 
and 637 Indians, 855 in all, led by Captain de Beaujeu. Contre- 
coeur, the commander of Fort Duquesne, had received information, 
through his scouts, that the English, three thousand strong, were 
within six leagues of his fort. Despairing of making an effectual 
defence against such a superior force, he was balancing in his mind 
whether to abandon his fort without awaiting their arrival, or to 
capitulate on honorable terms. In this dilemma Beaujeu prevailed 
on him to let him sally forth with a detachment to form an ambush, 
and give check to the enemy. Beaujeu was to have taken post 
at the river, and disputed the passage at the ford. For that pur- 
pose he was hurrying forward when discovered by the pioneers of 
Gage's advance party. He was a gallant officer, and fell at the 
beginning of the fight. The whole number of killed and wounded 
of French and Indians did not exceed seventy. 

Such was the scanty force which the imagination of the panic- 
stricken army had magnified into a great host, and from which 
they had fled in breathless terror, abandoning the whole frontier. 
No one could be more surprised than the French commander 
himself, when the ambuscading party returned in triumph with a 
long train of pack-horses laden with booty, the savages uncouthly 
clad in the garments of the slain, grenadier caps, officers' gold- 
laced coats, and glittering epaulettes; flourishing swords and 
sabres, or firing off muskets, and uttering fiendlike yells of victory. 
But when Contrecoeur was informed of the utter rout and destruc- 
tion of the much dreaded British army, his joy was complete. 
He ordered the guns of the fort to be fired in triumph, and sent 
out troops in pursuit of the fugitives. 

The affair of Braddock remains a memorable event in American 



THE GREAT TRENCH WAR. 95 

history, and has been characterized as "the most extraordinary 
victory ever obtained and the furthest flight ever made." It struck 
a fatal blow to the deference for British prowess, which once 
amounted almost to bigotry throughout the provinces. ''This 
whole transaction," observes Franklin, in his autobiography, "gave 
us the first suspicion that our exalted ideas of the prowess of Brit- 
ish regular troops had not been well founded." 

Washington arrived at Mount Vernon on the 26th of July, still 
in feeble condition from his long illness. His campaigning, thus 
far, had trenched upon his private fortune, and impaired one of the 
best of constitutions. But though under the saddening influence 
of debility and defeat he might count the cost of his campaigning, 
the martial spirit still burned within him. His connection with 
the army, it is true, had ceased at the death of Braddock, but his 
military duties continued as adjutant-general of the northern divis- 
ion of the province, and he immediately issued orders for the 
county lieutenants to hold the militia in readiness for parade and 
exercise, foreseeing that, in the present defenceless state of the 
frontier, there would be need of their services. Tidings of the 
rout and retreat of the army had circulated far and near, and 
spread consternation throughout the country. Immediate incur- 
sions both of French and Indians were apprehended ; and volun- 
teer companies began to form, for the purpose of marching across 
the mountains to the scene of danger. It was intimated to Wash- 
ington that his services would again be wanted on the frontier. 
He declared instantly that he was ready to serve his country to the 
extent of his powers ; but never on the same terms as heretofore. 

On the 4th of August, Governor Dinwiddle convened the 
Assembly to devise measures for the public safety. The sense of 
danger had quickened the slow patriotisiri of the burgesses ; they 
no longer held back supplies ; ;^40,ooo were promptly voted, and 
orders issued for the raising of a regiment of one thousand men. 
Washington was appointed commander-in-chief of all the forces 
raised, or to be raised, in the colony. The Assembly also voted 
;^300 to him, and proportionate sums to the other officers, and to 
the privates of the Virginia companies, in consideration of their 
gallant conduct, and their losses in the late battle. 



96 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

It is worthy of note that the early popularity of Washington was 
not the result of brilliant achievements or signal success ; on the 
contrary, it rose among trials and reverses, and may almost be 
said to have been the fruit of defeats. It remains an honorable 
testimony of Virginian intelligence, that the sterling, enduring, but 
undazzling qualities of Washington were thus early discerned and 
appreciated, though only heralded by misfortunes. The admi- 
rable manner in which he had conducted himself under these mis- 
fortunes, and the sagacity and practical wisdom he had displayed 
on all occasions, were universally acknowledged; and it was 
observed that, had his modest counsels been adopted by the un- 
fortunate Braddock, a totally different result might have attended 
the late campaign. 

An instance of this high appreciation of his merits occurs in a 
sermon preached on the 17th of August by the Rev. Samuel 
Davis, wherein he cites him as " that heroic youth. Colonel Wash- 
ington, whom I cannot but hope Providence has hitherto preserved 
in so signal a manner for some important service to his country y 
The expressions of the worthy clergyman may have been deemed 
enthusiastic at the time ; viewed in connection with subsequent 
events they appear almost prophetic. 

Johnson's Victory. — The defeat of Braddock paralyzed the ex- 
pedition against Niagara. Deferring the completion of the enter- 
prise until the following year, Shirley returned to Albany with the 
main part of his forces, leaving about seven hundred men to garri- 
son the fortifications he had commenced at Oswego. 

To General WiUiam Johnson, it will be recollected, had been 
confided the expedition against Crown Point. He had with him 
between five and six thousand troops of New York and New 
England, and a host of Mohawk w^arriors, loyally devoted to him. 
A French force of upwards of three thousand men, under the 
Baron Dieskau, an old general of high reputation, had recently 
arrived at Quebec, destined against Oswego. The baron had 
proceeded to Montreal, and sent forward thence seven hundred 
of his troops, when news arrived of the army gathering on Lake 
George for the attack on Crown Point, perhaps for an inroad into 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 97 

Canada. The public were in consternation; yielding to their 
importunities, the baron took post at Crown Point for its defence. 
Besides his regular troops, he had with him eight hundred Cana- 
dians, and seven hundred Indians of different tribes, under the 
general command of the Chevalier de St. Pierre, the officer to 
whom Washington had delivered the dispatches of Governor Din- 
widdle on his diplomatic mission to the frontier. The chevaher 
was a man of great influence among the Indians. 

In the meantime Johnson remained encamped at the south end 
of Lake George, awaiting the arrival of his bateaux. The camp 
was protected in the rear by the lake, in front by a bulwark of 
felled trees ; and was flanked by thickly wooded swamps. 

An attack on Fort Edward was apprehended. Scouts had seen 
the French within four miles of the carrying-place. In the morn- 
ing Colonel Williams was detached with one thousand men, and 
two hundred Indians, to intercept the enemy. Within two hours 
after their departure a heavy fire of musketry, in the midst of the 
forest, about three or four miles off, told of a warm encounter. 
The drums beat to arms ; aU were at their posts. The firing grew 
sharper and sharper, and nearer and nearer. Williams was evi- 
dently retreating. Colonel Cole was sent with three hundred 
men to cover his retreat. The breastwork of trees was manned. 
Some heavy cannon were dragged up to strengthen the front. A 
number of men were stationed with a field-piece on an eminence 
on the left flank. 

In a short time fugitives made their appearance ; first singly, 
then in masses, flying in confusion, with a rattling fire behind 
them, and the horrible Indian war-whoop. Consternation seized 
upon the camp, especially when the French emerged from the 
forest in battle array, led on by the Baron Dieskau, the gallant 
commander of Crown Point. Had all his troops been as daring 
as himself, the camp might have been carried by assault ; but the 
Canadians and Indians held back, posted themselves behind trees, 
and took to bush-fighting. The baron was left with his regulars 
(two hundred grenadiers) in front of the camp. He kept up a 
fire by platoons, but at too great a distance to do much mischief; 



98 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the Canadians and Indians fired from their coverts. The artillery 
played on them in return. The camp, having recovered from its 
panic, opened a fire of musketry. The engagement became gen- 
eral. The French grenadiers stood their ground bravely for a 
long time, but were dreadfully cut up by the artillery and small 
arms. The action slackened on the part of the French, until, after 
a long contest, they gave way. Johnson's men and the Indians 
then leaped over the breastwork, and a chance-medley fight ensued, 
that ended in the slaughter, rout, or capture of the enemy. 

The Baron de Dieskau had been disabled by a wound in the 
leg, and, left alone in the retreat, was found by the pursuers lean- 
ing against the stump of a tree. He was conveyed a prisoner to 
the camp, but ultimately died of his wounds. In the encounter 
with the detachment under Williams, the brave Chevalier de St. 
Pierre lost his life. Johnson received a slight wound early in the 
action. He did not follow up the victory by advancing against 
Crown Point, but erected a stockaded fort, which received the 
name of William Henry ; and having garrisoned it, returned to 
Albany. His services were rewarded by government with ^5000 
and a baronetcy ; and he was made Superintendent of Indian 
Affairs. 

Troubles on the Frontier. — On the 4th of February, 1756, 
Washington set out for Boston, to consult with Major-general 
Shirley, who had succeeded Braddock in the general command 
of the colonies. 

In those days the conveniences of travelling, even between our 
main cities, were few, and the roads execrable. The party, there- 
fore, travelled in Virginia style, on horseback, attended by their 
black servants in livery. In this way they accomplished a journey 
of five hundred miles in the depth of winter, stopping for some 
days at Philadelphia and New York. Those cities were then com- 
paratively small, and the arrival of a party of young Southern 
officers attracted attention. The last disastrous battle was still 
the theme of every tongue, and the honorable way in which these 
young officers had acquitted themselves in it made them objects 
of universal interest. Washington's fame, especially, had gone 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 99 

before him, having been spread by the officers who had served 
with him, and by the pubUc honors decreed him by the Virginia 
Legislature. "Your name," wrote his former fellow-campaigner, 
Gist, in a letter dated in the preceding autumn, "is more talked 
of in Philadelphia than that of any other person in the army, and 
everybody seems willing to venture under your command." 

With these prepossessions in his favor, when we consider Wash- 
ington's noble person and demeanor, his consummate horsemanship, 
the admirable horses he was accustomed to ride, and the aris- 
tocratic style of his equipments, we may imagine the effect pro- 
duced by himself and his little cavalcade, as they clattered through 
the streets of Philadelphia, and New York, and Boston. Their 
sojourn in each city was a continual fete. 

From General Shirley he learnt that the main objects of the 
ensuing campaign would be the reduction of Fort Niagara, so as 
to cut off the communication between Canada and Louisiana, the 
capture of Ticonderoga and Crown Point, as a measure of safety 
for New York, the besieging of Fort Duquesne, and the menacing 
of Quebec by a body of troops which were to advance by the Ken- 
nebec river. 

The official career of Shirley was drawing to a close. Though a 
man of good parts, he had always, until recently, acted in a civil 
capacity, and proved incompetent to conduct military operations. 
He was recalled to England, and was to be superseded by General 
Abercrombie, who was coming out with two regiments. 

The general command in America, however, was to be held by 
the Earl of Loudoun, who was invested with powers almost equal 
to those of a viceroy, being placed above all the colonial governors. 
Besides his general command, the Earl of Loudoun was to be 
governor of Virginia. The campaign would open on his arrival, 
which, it was expected, would be early in the spring ; and brilliant 
results were anticipated. 

Washington remained ten days in Boston, attending, with great 
interest, the meetings of the Massachusetts Legislature, in which 
the plan of military operations was ably discussed. After receiving 
the most hospitable attentions from the poh'te and intelligent so- 



100 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ciety of the place, he returned to Virginia, for the French had 
made another sortie from Fort Duquesne, accompanied by a band 
of savages, and were spreading terror and desolation through the 
country. 

Horrors accumulated at Winchester. Every hour brought its 
tale of terror, true or false, of houses burnt, famihes massacred, or 
beleaguered and famishing in stockaded forts. The danger ap- ^ 
proached. A scouting party had been attacked in the Warm ^ 
Spring Mountain, about twenty miles distant, by a large body of % 
French and Indians, mosdy on horseback. The captain of the -^ 
scouting party and several of his men had been slain, and the rest 
put to flight. 

An attack on Winchester was apprehended, and the terrors of = 
the people rose to agony. They turned to Washington as their 
main hope. The women surrounded him, holding up their chil- ' 
dren, and imploring him with tears and cries to save them from^ 
the savages. The youthful commander looked round on the sup- T 
phant crowd with a countenance beaming with pity, and a heart 
wrung with anguish. A letter to Governor Dinwiddle shows the 
conflict of his feelings. " I am too litde acquainted with pathetic 
language to attempt a description of these people's distresses. 
But what can I do ? I see their situation ; I know their danger, 
and participate in their sufferings, without having it in my power to 
give them further relief than uncertain promises." — ^'The suppli- 
cating tears of the women, and moving petitions of the men, melt 
me into such deadly sorrow, that I solemnly declare, if I know my 
own mind, I could offer myself a willing sacrifice to the butcher- 
ing enemy, provided that would contribute to the people's ease." 

The\ unstudied eloquence of this letter drew from the governor 
an instant order for a militia force from the upper counties to his 
assistance. 

The Legislature, too, began at length to act, but timidly and 
inefficiently. " The country knows her danger," writes one of the 
members, " but such is her parsimony that she is willing to wait 
for the rains to wet the powder, and the rats to eat the bowstrings 
of the enemy, rather than attempt to drive them from her fron- 



THE GREAT ERENCH WAR. 101 

tiers." The measure of relief voted by the Assembly was an 
additional appropriation of ;£ 20,000, and an increase of the 
provincial force to fifteen hundred men. Throughout the sum- 
mer of 1756, Washington exerted himself diligently in carrying 
out measures determined upon for frontier security. A great 
fortress was built at Winchester, and called Fort Loudoun, in 
"Vw honor of the commander-in-chief, whose arrival in Virginia was 
^ hopefully anticipated. The sites of the frontier posts were decided 
N<. upon by Washington and his officers ; parties were sent out to 
^ work on them, and men recruited, and militia drafted to garrison 
them. Washington visited occasionally such as were in progress, 
\ and near at hand. It was a service of some peril, for the moun- 
I tains and forests were still infested by prowling savages, especially 
in the neighborhood of these new forts. At one time when he 
^ was reconnoitering a wild part of the country, attended merely by 
vr^ a servant and a guide, two men were murdered by the Indians in a 
^solitary defile shortly after he had passed through it. In the 
autumn, he made a tour of inspection along the whole line, and 
found repeated proofs of the inefficiency of the militia system. 
In one place he attempted to raise a force with which to scour 
a region infested by roving bands of savages. After waiting sev- 
eral days, but five men answered to his summons. In another 
place, where three companies had been ordered to the relief of 
a fort attacked by the Indians, all that could be mustered were a 
captain, a lieutenant, and seven or eight men. 

When the militia were drafted, and appeared under arms, the 
case was not much better. It was now late in the autumn ; their 
term of service, by the act of the legislature, expired in December 
— half of the time, therefore, was lost in marching out and home. 
Their waste of provisions was enormous. To be put on allowance, 
like other soldiers, they considered an indignity. They would 
sooner starve than carry a few days' provisions on their backs. 
On the march, when breakfast was wanted, they would knock 
down the first beeves they met with, and, after regaling themselves, 
march on till dinner, when they would take the same method ; 
and so for supper, to the great oppression of the people. For the 



102 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

want of proper military laws, they were obstinate, self-willed, and 
perverse. Every individual had his own crude notion of things, 
and would undertake to direct. If his advice were neglected, he 
would think himself slighted, abused, and injured, and, to redress 
himself, would depart for his home. 

The garrisons were weak for want of men, but more so from 
indolence and irregularity. Not one was in a posture of defence ; 
few but might be surprised with the greatest ease. At one fort, 
the Indians rushed from their lurking-place, pounced upon several 
children playing under the walls, and bore them off before they 
were discovered. Another fort was surprised, and many of the 
people massacred in the same manner. In the course of Washing- 
ton's tour, as he and his party approached a fort, he heard a quick 
firing for several minutes ; concluding that it was attacked, they 
hastened to its relief, but found the garrison were merely amusing 
themselves firing at a mark, or for wagers. In this way they would 
waste their ammunition as freely as they did their provisions. In 
the meantime, the inhabitants of the country were in a wretched 
situation, feeling the litde dependence to be put on militia. 

Successes of Montcalm. — While the Virginia frontier was thus 
harassed, military affairs went on tardily and heavily at the north. 
The campaign against Canada, which was to have opened early in 
the year, hung fire. The armament coming out for the purpose, 
under Lord Loudoun, was delayed through the want of energy 
and union in the British cabinet. General Abercrombie set sail 
in advance for New York with two regiments, but did not reach 
Albany, the head-quarters of military operation, until the 25th of 
June. He billeted his soldiers upon the town, much to the dis- 
gust of the inhabitants, and talked of ditching and stockading it, 
but postponed all enterprises until the arrival of Lord Loudoun ; 
then the campaign was to open in earnest. 

On the 12th of July, came word that the forts Ontario and 
Oswego, on each side of the mouth of the Oswego river, were 
menaced by the French. They had been imperfectly constructed 
by Shirley, and were insufficiently garrisoned, yet contained a great 
amount of military and naval stores, and protected the vessels 
which cruised on Lake Ontario. 



THE GREAT ERENCH WAR. 103 

Major-general Webb was ordered by Abercrombie to hold himself 
in readiness to march with one regiment to the relief of these forts, 
but received no further orders. Everything awaited the arrival at 
Albany of Lord Loudoun, which at length took place, on the 29th 
of July. There were now at least ten thousand troops, regulars and 
provincials, loitering in an idle camp at Albany, yet relief to Oswego 
was still delayed. Lord Loudoun was in favor of it, but the gov- 
ernments of New York and New England urged the immediate re- 
duction of Crown Point, as necessary for the security of their fron- 
tier. After much debate, it was agreed that General Webb should 
march to the relief of Oswego. He left Albany on the 12th of 
August, but had scarce reached the carrying-place, between the 
Mohawk river and Wood Creek, when he received news that 
Oswego was reduced, and its garrison captured. While the British 
commanders had debated. Field- marshal the Marquis of Mont- 
calm, newly arrived from France, had acted. He was a different 
kind of soldier from Abercrombie or Loudoun. A capacious mind 
and enterprising spirit animated a small, but active and untiring 
frame. Quick in thought, quick in speech, quicker still in action, 
he comprehended everything at a glance, and moved from point to 
point of the province with a celerity and secrecy that completely 
baffled his slow and pondering antagonists. Crown Point and 
Ticonderoga were visited, and steps taken to strengthen their 
works, and provide for their security ; then hastening to Montreal, 
he put himself at the head of a force of regulars, Canadians, and 
Indians ; ascended the St. Lawrence to Lake Ontario ; blocked 
up the mouth of the Oswego by his vessels, landed his guns, and 
besieged the two forts ; drove the garrison out of one into the 
other ; killed the commander, and compelled the garrisons to sur- 
render, prisoners of war. With the forts was taken an immense 
amount of military stores, ammunition, and provisions ; one hun- 
dred and twenty-one cannon, fourteen mortars, six vessels of war, 
and three chests of money. His blow achieved, Montcalm re- 
turned in triumph to Montreal, and sent the colors of the captured 
forts to be hung up as trophies in the Canadian churches. 

The season was now too far advanced for Lord Loudoun to enter 



104 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

upon any great military enterprise ; he postponed, therefore, the 
great northern campaign, so much talked of and debated, until the 
following year ; and having taken measures for the protection of his 
frontiers, and for more active operations in the spring, returned 
to New York, hung up his sword, and went into comfortable winter 
quarters. 

Next year (1757) the great plan of operations at the north was 
again doomed to failure. The reduction of Crown Point was laid 
aside and the capture of Louisburg substituted, as an acquisition 
of far greater importance. This was a place of great consequence, 
situated on the isle of Cape Breton, and strongly fortified. It 
commanded the fisheries of Newfoundland, overawed New Eng- 
land, and was a main bulwark to Acadia. In the course of July, 
Lord Loudoun set sail for Halifax with about six thousand men, 
to join Admiral Holbourne, who had just arrived with eleven ships 
of the fine, a fire-ship, bomb-ketch, and fleet of transports, having 
on board six thousand men. With this united force Lord Loudoun 
anticipated the certain capture of Louisburg. 

Scarce had the tidings of his lordship's departure reached Can- 
ada, when the active Montcalm again took the field. Fort William 
Henry, which Sir William Johnson had erected on the southern 
shore of Lake George, was now his object ; it commanded the lake, 
and was an important protection to the British frontier. A brave 
old officer, Colonel Monro, with about five hundred men, formed 
the garrison ; more than three times that number of militia were 
entrenched near by. Collecting his forces from Crown Point, 
Ticonderoga, and the adjacent posts, with a considerable number 
of Canadians and Indians, altogether nearly eight thousand men, 
Montcalm advanced up the lake, on the ist of August, in a fleet 
of boats, with swarms of Indian canoes in the advance. The fort 
came near being surprised ; but the tf-oops encamped without it 
abandoned their tents and hurried within the works. A summons 
to surrender was answered by a brave defiance. Montcalm in- 
vested the fort, made his approaches, and battered it with his 
artillery. For five days its veteran commander kept up a vigorous 
defence, trusting to receive assistance from General Webb, who 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 105 

had failed to relieve Fort Oswego in the preceding year, and who 
was now at Fort Edward, about fifteen miles distant, with upwards 
of five thousand men. Instead, of this, Webb, who over-rated the 
French forces, sent him a letter, advising him to capitulate. The 
letter was intercepted by Montcalm, but still forwarded to Monro. 
The obstinate old soldier, however, persisted in his defence, until 
most of his cannon were burst, and his ammunition expended. 
At length, in the month of August, he hung out a flag of truce, 
and obtained honorable terms from an enemy who knew how to 
appreciate his valor. Montcalm demolished the fort, carried off 
all the artillery and munitions of war, with vessels employed in the 
navigation of the lake, and having thus completed his destruction 
of the British defences on this frontier, returned once more in 
triumph with the spoils of victory, to hang up fresh trophies in the 
churches of Canada. 

Lord Loudoun in the meantime formed his junction with Admi- 
ral Holbourne at Halifax, but the French were again too quick for 
them. Admiral de la Mothe had arrived at Louisburg, with a 
large naval and land force ; it was ascertained that he had seven- 
teen ships of the line, and three frigates, quietly moored in the 
harbor ; that the place was well fortified and supplied with provis- 
ions and ammunition, and garrisoned with six thousand regular 
troops, three thousand natives, and thirteen hundred Indians. 

Some hot-heads would have urged an attempt against all such 
array of force, but Lord Loudoun was aware of the probability of 
defeat, and the disgrace and ruin that it would bring upon British 
arms in America. He wisely, though ingloriously, returned to 
New York. Admiral Holbourne was overtaken by a hurricane, in 
which one of his ships was lost, eleven were dismasted, others had 
to throw their guns overboard, and all returned in a shattered con- 
dition to England. Thus ended the northern campaign by land 
and sea, a subject of great mortification to the nation, and ridicule 
and triumph to the enemy. 

During these unfortunate operations to the north, Washington 
was stationed at Winchester, and left with seven hundred men to 
defend a frontier of more than three hundred and fifty miles in 



106 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

extent. The capture and demolition of Oswego by Montcalm had 
produced a disastrous effect. The frontiers of Pennsylvania, 
Maryland, and Virginia were harassed by repeated inroads of 
French and Indians, and Washington had the mortification of see- 
ing the noble valley of the Shenandoah almost deserted by its 
inhabitants, and fast relapsing into a wilderness. 

The year wore away on his part in this harassing service, and 
the vexations he experienced were heightened by continual mis- 
understandings with Governor Dinwiddle, whose administration, 
however, was now about to end. He set sail for England in 
January, 1758, leaving a character overshadowed by the imputa- 
tion of avarice and extortion. He was a sordid, narrow-minded, 
and arrogant man ; prone to meddle with matters of which he was 
profoundly ignorant, and absurdly unwilling to have his ignorance 
enlightened. Mr. Francis Fauquier had been appointed his suc- 
cessor, and, until he should arrive, Mr. John Blair, president of the 
council, had, from his office, charge of the government. In the 
latter, Washington had a friend who appreciated his character and 
services, and was disposed to carry out his plans. 

The general aspect of affairs, also, was more animating. Under 
the able and intrepid administration of William Pitt, who had con- 
trol of the British cabinet, an effort was made to retrieve the dis- 
graces of the late American campaign, and to carry on the war 
with greater vigor. Lord Loudoun was relieved from a command 
in which he had attempted so much and done so little. His 
friends alleged that his inactivity was owing to a want of unanimity 
and co-operation in the colonial governments, which paralyzed all 
his well meant efforts. Franklin, it is probable, probed the mat- 
ter with his usual sagacity when he characterized him as a man 
"entirely made up of indecision." — "Like St. George on the 
signs, he was always on horseback, but never rode on." 

Campaigns of 1758. — The general command in x\merica de- 
volved on Abercrombie, and the forces were divided into three 
detached bodies ; one, under Major-general Amherst, was to oper- 
ate in the north with the fleet under Boscawen, for the reduction 
of Louisburg ; another, under Abercrombie himself, was to pro- 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 107 

ceed against Ticonderoga and Crown Point ; and the third, under 
Brigadier-general Forbes, who had the charge of the middle and 
southern colonies, was to undertake the reduction of Fort Du- 
quesne. 

It was with the greatest satisfaction Washington saw his favor- 
ite measure at last adopted. He was still commander-in-chief of 
the Virginia troops, now augmented to two regiments of one thou- 
sand men each ; one led by himself, the other by Colonel Byrd ; 
the whole destined to make a part of the army of General Forbes 
in the expedition against Fort Duquesne. Before we proceed 
with this narrative, however, we will briefly notice the conduct of 
the two other important expeditions of the year. 

Capture of Louisburg. — Major-general Amherst embarked with 
twelve thousand men, in the fleet of Admiral Boscawen, and set 
sail from Halifax about the end of May. Along with him went 
Brigadier-general James Wolfe, an officer young in years, but a 
veteran in military experience, and destined to gain a romantic 
celebrity. He may almost be said to have been born in the camp. 
When a lad, he had witnessed the battles of Dettingen and Fon- 
tenoy ; and now, after having been eighteen years in the service, 
he was but thirty-one years of age. In America, however, he was 
to win his lasting laurels. 

Louisburg was garrisoned by two thousand five hundred regulars, 
and three hundred militia, subsequently reinforced by upwards of 
four hundred Canadians and Indians. In the harbor were six 
ships of the line, and five frigates ; three of which were sunk 
across the mouth. For several days the troops were prevented 
from landing by boisterous weather, and a heavy surf. 

On the 8th of June, before daybreak they were embarked in 
boats in three divisions. While several frigates scoured the beach 
with their shot, Wolfe pulled for shore with his division ; the others 
distracting the attention of the enemy, by making a show of land- 
ing in other parts. The surf still ran high, the enemy opened fire, 
many boats were upset, many men slain, but Wolfe pushed for- 
ward, sprang into the water when the boats grounded, dashed 
through the surf with his men, stormed the enemy's breastworks 



108 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and batteries, and drove them from the shore. The other divis- 
ions effected a landing after a severe conflict ; artillery and stores 
were brought on shore, and Louisburg was formally invested. 

The Chevalier Drucour, who commanded at Louisburg, kept up 
a desperate defence until all the ships were taken or destroyed ; 
forty, out of fifty-two pieces of cannon dismounted, and his works 
mere heaps of ruins. When driven to capitulate, he refused the 
terms proposed, as being too severe, and, when threatened with a 
general assault, by sea and land, determined to abide it, rather 
than submit to what he considered a humiliation. The prayers and 
petitions of the inhabitants, however, overcame his obstinacy. The 
place was surrendered, and he and his garrison became prisoners of 
war. The youthful Wolfe, who returned shortly after the victory to 
England, was hailed as the hero of the enterprise. 

Battle of Ticonderoga. — At the beginning of July, Abercrom- 
bie was encamped on the borders of Lake George, with nearly 
seven thousand regulars, and upwards of nine thousand provincials 
from New England, New York, and New Jersey. Major Israel 
Putnam of Connecticut, who had served on this lake, under Sir 
William Johnson, had been detached with a scouting party to 
reconnoiter the neighborhood. After his return and report, Aber- 
crombie prepared to proceed against Ticonderoga, situated on a 
tongue of land in Lake Champlain, at the mouth of the strait com- 
municating with Lake George. 

On the 5 th of July, the forces were embarked in one hundred 
and twenty-five whale-boats, and nine hundred bateaux, with the 
artillery on rafts. The vast flotilla proceeded slowly down the 
lake, with banners and pennons fluttering in the summer breeze ; 
arms glittering in the sunshine, and martial music echoing along 
the wood-clad mountains. With Abercrombie went Lord Howe, 
a brave and enterprising young nobleman, endeared to the sol- 
diery by the generosity of his disposition and the sweetness of his 
manners. 

The next day they landed on the western shore, just at the 
entrance of the strait leading to Lake Champlain. Here they 
were formed into three columns, and pushed forward. They soon 



THE GREAT FRENCH PVAR. 109 

came upon the enemy's advanced guard, a battalion encamped 
behind a log breastwork. The French set fire to their camp, and 
retreated. The columns kept their form, and pressed forward, 
but, through the ignorance of their guides, became bewildered in 
a dense forest, and fell into confusion. Lord Howe pressed on 
with the van of the right centre column. Putnam, who was with 
him, and more experienced in forest warfare, endeavored in 
vain to inspire him with caution. After a time they came upon a 
detachment of the retreating foe, who, like themselves, had lost 
their way. A severe conflict ensued, in which Lord Howe was 
killed at the onset ; but the enemy were routed. Nothing further 
was done that day. With Lord Howe expired the master spirit 
of the enterprise. His loss was bewailed by the American people. 
The "point near which the troops had landed still bears his name ; 
the place where he fell is still pointed out ; and Massachusetts 
voted him a monument in Westminster Abbey. 

Montcalm had called in all his forces, between three and four 
thousand men, and was strongly posted behind deep entrench- 
ments and breastworks eight feet high ; with an abatis, of felled 
trees, in front of his lines, presenting a horrid barrier, with their 
jagged boughs i:)ointing outward. Abercrombie was deceived as 
to the strength of the French works ; against the opinion of his 
most judicious officers, he gave orders to storm them. Never 
were rash orders more gallantly obeyed. The men rushed for- 
ward with fixed bayonets, and attempted to force their way through 
the abatis, under a sheeted fire of swivels and musketry. Some 
even reached the parapet, where they were shot down. The 
breastwork was too high to be surmounted, and gave a secure 
covert to the enemy. Repeated assaults were made, and as often 
repelled, with dreadful havoc. After four hours Abercrombie gave 
up the ill-judged attempt, and withdrew to the landing-place, with 
the loss of nearly two thousand in killed and wounded. Had not 
the vastly inferior force of Montcalm prevented him from sallying 
beyond his trenches, the retreat of the British might have been 
pushed to a headlong and disastrous flight. 

Abercrombie had still nearly four times the number of the 



no LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

enemy, and all the means of carrying on a siege, with every pros- 
pect of success ; but the failure of this rash assault seems com- 
pletely to have dismayed him. The next day he re-embarked all 
his troops, and returned across that lake where his disgraced ban- 
ners had recently waved so proudly. 

While the general was planning fortifications on Lake George, 
Colonel Bradstreet succeeded in reducing Fort Frontenac, the 
stronghold of the French on the north side of the entrance of Lake 
Ontario. This post was not only a central point of Indian trade, 
but a magazine for the more southern posts, among which was 
Fort Duquesne. 

Capture of Fort Duquesne. — Operations went on slowly in that 
part of the year's campaign in which Washington was immediately 
engaged. Brigadier-general Forbes, who was commander-in-chief,- 
was detained at Philadelphia by those delays and cross-purposes 
incident to military affairs in a new country. Colonel Bouquet, who 
was to command the advanced division, took his station, with a 
corps of regulars, at Raystown, in the centre of Pennsylvania. 
There slowly assembled troops from various parts. Three thou- 
sand Pennsylvanians, twelve hundred and fifty South Carolinians, 
and a few hundred men from elsewhere. 

Washington, in the meantime, gathered together his scattered 
regiments at Winchester. The force thus assembling was in want 
of arms, tents, field-equipage, and almost every requisite. Wash- 
ington was now ordered to repair to Williamsburg, and lay the 
state of the case before the council. He set off promptly on 
horseback, attended by Bishop, his well-trained military servant, 
who had served the late General Braddock. It proved an event- 
ful journey, though not in a military point of view. In crossing a 
ferry of the Pamunkey river, he fell in company with a Mr. Cham- 
berlayne, who lived in the neighborhood, and who, in the spirit of 
Virginian hospitality, claimed him as a guest. It was with difficulty 
Washington could be prevailed on to halt for dinner, so impatient 
was he to arrive at Williamsburg. 

Among the guests at Mr. Chamberlayne's was a young and 
blooming widow, Mrs. Martha Custis, daughter of Mr. John Dan- 



THE GREAT ERENCH WAR. Ill 

dridge, both patrician names in the province. Her husband, John 
Parke Custis, had been dead about three years, leaving her with 
two young children, and a large fortune. She is represented as 
being rather below the middle size, but extremely well shaped, 
with an agreeable countenance, dark hazel eyes and hair, and 
frank, engaging manners. Washington's heart appears to have 
been taken by surprise. The dinner, which in those days was an 
earlier meal than at present, seemed all too short. The afternoon 
passed away like a dream. Bishop was punctual to the orders 
he had received on halting ; the horses pawed at the door ; but 
for once Washington loitered in the path of duty. The horses 
were countermanded, and it was not until the next morning that 
he was again in the saddle, spurring for Williamsburg. His time 
for courtship was brief. Military duties called him back almost 
immediately to Winchester ; but he improved his brief opportu- 
nity to the utmost. The blooming widow had many suitors, but 
Washington was graced with that renown so ennobling in the eyes 
of woman. Before they separated, they had mutually plighted 
their faith, and the marriage was to take place as soon as the cam- 
paign against Fort Duquesne was at an end. 

On July 2 Washington arrived at Fort Cumberland, and pro- 
ceeded to open a road between that post and head-quarters, at 
Raystown, thirty miles distant, where Colonel Bouquet was stationed. 
His troops were scantily supplied with regimental clothing. The 
weather was oppressively warm. He now conceived the idea of 
equipping them in the light Indian hunting garb, and even of adopt- 
ing it himself. Such was probably the origin of the American rifle 
dress, afterwards so much worn in warfare. 

The army was now annoyed by scouting parties of Indians hov- 
ering about the neighborhood. Expresses passing between the 
posts were fired upon ; a wagoner was shot down. Washington 
sent out counter-parties of Cherokees, but he earnestly discounte- 
nanced a proposition of Colonel Bouquet, to make an irruption 
into the enemy's country with a strong party of regulars. Such a 
detachment, he observed, could not be sent without a cumbersome 
train of supplies, which would discover it to the enemy, who must 



112 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

at that time be collecting his whole force at Fort Duquesne ; the 
enterprise, therefore, would be likely to terminate in a miscarriage, 
if not in the destruction of the party. We shall see that his opin- 
ion was oracular. 

As Washington intended to retire from military life at the close 
of this campaign, he had proposed himself to the electors of Fred- 
erick County as their representative in the House of Burgesses. 
The election was coming on at Winchester; his friends pressed 
him to attend it, and Colonel Bouquet gave him leave of absence ; 
but he declined to absent himself from his post for the promotion 
of his political interests. There were three competitors in the 
field, yet so high was the public opinion of his merit, that, though 
Winchester had been his head-quarters for two or three years past, 
and he had occasionally enforced martial law with a rigorous hand, 
he was elected by a large majority. 

On the 2 1 St of July the tidings of the fall of Louisburg increased 
Washington's impatience at the delays of the expedition with 
which he was connected. He wished to rival these successes by a 
brilliant blow in the South. He soon learnt to his surprise that 
the road to which his men were accustomed, and which had been 
worked by Braddock's troops in his campaign, was not to be 
taken in the present expedition, but a new one opened through 
the heart of Pennsylvania, on the track generally taken by the 
northern traders. The first of September found him still encamped 
at Fort Cumberland, his troops sickly and dispirited, and the 
brilliant expedition which he had anticipated dwindling down into 
a tedious operation of road-making. At length, he received orders 
from General Forbes to join him with his troops at Raystown, 
where he had just arrived. He was received by the general with 
the highest marks of respect. On all occasions, that commander 
treated his opinions with the greatest deference. He adopted a 
plan drawn out by Washington for the march of the army ; and 
also an order of battle, which still exists, furnishing a proof of his 
skill in frontier warfare. 

It w^as now the middle of September; yet the great body of 
men engaged in opening the new military road, after incredible 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 113 

toil, had not advanced above forty-five miles, to a place called 
Loyal Hannan. Colonel Bouquet, who commanded the division 
of nearly two thousand men sent forward to open this road, had 
halted at Loyal Hannan to establish a military post. He was up- 
wards of fifty miles from Fort Duquesne, and was tempted to 
adopt the meaoure, so strongly discountenanced by Washington, 
of sending a party on a foray into the enemy's country. He ac- 
cordingly detached Major Grant with eight hundred picked men, 
some of them Highlanders, others, Virginians in Indian garb, 
under command of Major Lewis. 

Grant's instructions were merely to reconnoiter the country in 
the neighborhood of Fort Duquesne, and ascertain the strength 
and position of the enemy. He conducted the enterprise with the 
foolhardiness of a man eager for notoriety. Arriving at night in the 
neighborhood of the fort, he posted his men on a hill, and sent 
out a party of obser\'ation, who set fire to a log house near the 
walls and returned to the encampment. As if this were not suffi- 
cient to put the enemy on the alert, he ordered the reveille to be 
beaten in the morning in several places ; then, posting Major 
Lewis with his provincial troops in the rear to protect the baggage, 
he marshalled his regulars in battle array, and sent an engineer, 
with a covering party, to take a plan of the works in full view of 
the garrison. 

Not a gun was fired by the fort ; the silence was mistaken for 
fear, and increased the blind security of the British commander. 
At length, when he was thrown off his guard, there was a sudden 
sally of the garrison, and an attack on the flanks by Indians hid in 
ambush. A scene now occurred similar to that at the defeat of 
Braddoc^. The British officers marshalled their men according to 
European tactics, and the Highlanders for some time stood their 
ground bravely; but the destructive fire and horrid yells of the 
Indians soon produced panic and confusion. Major Lewis, at the 
first noise of the attack, left Captain Bullitt, with fifty Virginians, 
to guard the baggage, and hastened with the main body of his 
men to the scene of action. The contest was kept up for some 
time, but the confusion was irretrievable. The Indians sallied 



114 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

from their concealment^ and attacked with the tomahawk and scalp- 
ing-knife. Lewis fought hand to hand with an Indian brave, 
whom he laid dead at his feet, but was surrounded by others, and 
only saved his life by surrendering himself to a French officer. 
Grant surrendered himself in like manner. The whole detachment 
was put to rout with dreadful carnage. 

Captain Bullitt rallied several of the fugitives, and made a barri- 
cade with the baggage wagons, behind which he posted his men. 
As the savages, having finished the havoc and plunder of the field 
of battle, were hastening in pursuit of the fugitives, Bullitt suffered 
them to come near, when, on a concerted signal, a destructive fire 
was opened from behind the baggage wagons. They were checked 
for a time ; but were again pressing forward in greater numbers, 
when Bullitt and his men held out the signal of capitulation, and 
advanced as if to surrender. When within eight yards of the enemy, 
they suddenly levelled their arms, poured a most effective volley, 
and then charged with the bayonet. The Indians fled in dismay, 
and Bullitt took advantage of this check to retreat with all speed, 
collecting the wounded and the scattered fugitives as he advanced. 
The routed detachment came back in fragments to Colonel Bou- 
quet's camp at Loyal Hannan, with the loss of about three hun- 
dred killed and taken. If Washington could have taken any pride 
in seeing his presages of misfortune verified, he might have been 
gratified by the result of this rash "irruption into the enemy's 
country," which was exactly what he had predicted. In his letters 
to Governor Fauquier, however, he bears lightly on the error of 
Colonel Bouquet. Bullitt was soon after rewarded with a major's 
commission. 

It was the 5th of November before the whole army assembled 
at Loyal Hannan. Winter was at hand, and fifty miles of wilder- 
ness were still to be traversed, by a road not yet made, before they 
could reach Fort Duquesne. In a council of war it was deter- 
mined to be impracticable to advance further with the army that 
season. Three prisoners, however, who wer(^ brought in, gave such 
an account of the weak state of the garrison at Fort Duquesne, 
its want of provisions, and the defection of the Indians, that it was 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 115 

determined to push forward. The march was accordingly resumed, 
but without tents or baggage, and with only a light train of artillery. 
Washington still kept the advance. As they approached Fort 
Duquesne the bones of those massacred in the defeat of Braddock 
still lay scattered about the battle-field, whitening in the sun. 

At length the army arrived in sight of Fort Duquesne, advancing 
with great precaution, and expecting a vigorous defence ; but that 
formidable fortress, the terror and scourge of the frontier, and the 
object of such warlike enterprise, fell without a blow. The recent 
successes of the English forces in Canada, particularly the capture 
and destruction of Fort Frontenac, had left the garrison without 
hope of reinforcements and supplies. The whole force, at the 
time, did not exceed five hundred men, and the provisions were 
nearly exhausted. The commander, therefore, waited only until 
the English army was within one day's march, when he embarked 
his troops at night in bateaux, blew up his magazines, set fire to 
the fort, and retreated down the Ohio, by the light of the flames. 
On the 25th of November, Washington, with the advanced guard, 
marched in, and planted the British flag on the yet smoking ruins. 

One of the first offices of the army was to collect and bury, in 
one common tomb, the bones of their fellow-soldiers who had 
fallen in the battles of Braddock and Grant. The ruins of the 
fortress were then put in a defensible state, and garrisoned by 
two hundred men from Washington's regiment; the name was 
changed to that of Fort Pitt, in honor of the illustrious minister, 
whose measures had given vigor to this year's campaign ; it has 
since been modified into Pittsburg, and designates one of the most 
busy and populous cities of the interior. 

The reduction of Fort Duquesne terminated, as Washington had 
foreseen, the troubles and dangers of the southern frontier. The 
French domination of the Ohio was at an end ; the Indians, as 
usual, paid homage to the conquering power, and a treaty of peace 
was concluded with all the tribes between the Ohio and the lakes. 

With this campaign ended, for the present, the military career 
of Washington. His great object was attained, the restoration of 
quiet and security to his native province ; accordingly, he gave 



116 LIFE OF W'ASllINGrOX. 

up his commission at the close of the year, and retired from the 
service, followed by the applause of his fellow-soldiers, and the 
admiration of all his countrymen. 

His marriage with Mrs. Custis took place shordy after his return. 
It was celebrated on the 6th of January, 1759, at the residence of 
the bride, in the good old hospitable style of Virginia, amid a 
joyous assemblage of relatives and friends. 

Conquest of Canada. — Before following Washington into the 
retirement of domestic life, we think it proper to notice the events 
which closed the great struggle between F^ngland and France for 
empire in America. In that struggle he had first become prac- 
tised in arms, and schooled in the ways of the world ; and its 
results will be found connected with the history of his later years. 

General Abercrombie had been superseded as commander-in 
chief of the forces in America by Major-general Amherst, who had 
gained great favor by the reduction of Louisburg. According to 
the plan of operations for 1759, General Wolfe, who had risen to 
fame by his gallant conduct in the same affair, was to ascend the 
St. Lawrence in a fleet of ships-of-war, with eight thousand men, 
as soon as the river should be free of ice, and lay siege to Quebec. 
General Amherst, in the meantime, was to reduce Ticonderoga 
and Crown Point, cross Lake Champlain, push on to the St. Law- 
rence, and co-operate with AVolfe. 

A third expedition, under Brigadier-general Prideaux, was to 
attack Fort Niagara, which controlled the whole country of the 
Six Nations, and commanded the navigation of the great lakes, 
and the intercourse between Canada and Louisiana. Having re- 
duced this fort, he was to traverse Lake Ontario, descend the St. 
Lawrence, capture Montreal, and join his forces with those of 
Amherst. 

The last mentioned expedition was the first" executed. Prideaux 
embarked at Oswego on the first of July, with a large body of 
troops. He was accompanied by Sir William Johnson, and his 
Indian braves of the Mohawk. Landing at an inlet of Lake 
Ontario, within a few miles of Fort Niagara, he proceeded to 
invest it. The garrison, six hundred strong, made a resolute de- 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 117 

fence. On the 20th of July, Prideaux, in visiting his trenches, 
was killed by the bursting of a cohorn. The siege was conducted 
by Sir William Johnson with courage and sagacity. Being in- 
formed by his scouts that twelve hundred regular troops, with a 
number of Indian auxiliaries, were hastening to the rescue, he 
detached a force of grenadiers and light infantry, with some 
of his Mohawk warriors, to intercept them. They came in 
sight of each other on the road, between Niagara Falls and the 
fort, within the thundering sounds of the one, and the distant 
view of the other. Johnson's " braves " advanced to have a par- 
ley with the hostile redskins. The latter received them with a 
warwhoop, and Frenchman and savage made an impetuous onset. 
Johnson's regulars and provincials stood their ground firmly, while 
his red warriors fell on the flanks of the enemy. After a' sharp 
conflict, the French were broken, routed, and pursued through the 
woods, with great carnage. The next day Sir William Johnson 
sent a trumpet, summoning the garrison to surrender, to spare the 
effusion of blood, and prevent outrages by the Indians. They were 
permitted to march out with the honors of war. Thus was secured 
the key to the communication between Lakes Ontario and Erie, 
and to the vast interior region connected with them. 

In the month of July, General Amherst embarked on Lake 
George with nearly twelve thousand men, and proceeded against 
Ticonderoga. Montcalm was no longer in the fort ; he was absent 
for the protection of Quebec. The garrison did not exceed four 
hundred men. Bourlamaqui, the brave officer who commanded, 
dismantled the fortifications, as he did likewise those at Crown 
Point, and retreated down the lake, to make a stand at the Isle 
aux Noix, for the protection of Montreal. Instead of following 
him up, and hastening to co-operate with Wolfe, General Amherst 
proceeded to repair the works at Ticonderoga, and erect a new 
fort at Crown Point, though neither were in present danger of 
being attacked, nor would be of use if Canada were conquered. 
Amherst was one of those men, who, in seeking to be sure, are apt 
to be fatally slow. His delay enabled the enemy to rally their 
forces at Isle aux Noix, and call in Canadian reinforcements, 



118 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

while it deprived Wolfe of that co-operation most essential to the 
success of the campaign. 

Wolfe, with eight thousand men, ascended the St. Lawrence in 
June. The grenadiers of the army were commanded by Colonel 
Guy Carleton, and part of the light infantry by Lieutenant-colonel 
William Howe, both destined to celebrity in the annals of the 
American Revolution. Colonel Howe was brother of the gallant 
Lord Howe, whose fall in the preceding year was so generally 
lamented. Among the officers of the fleet, was Jervis, the future 
admiral, and ultimately Earl St. Vincent, and the master of one of 
the ships was James Cook, afterwards renowned as a discoverer. 

About the end of June, the troops debarked on the Isle of 
Orleans, and encamped in its fertile fields. Quebec, the citadel 
of Canada, was strong by nature. It was built round the point of 
a rocky promontory, and flanked by precipices. The crystal cur- 
rent of the St. Lawrence swept by it on the right, and the river 
St. Charles flowed along on the left, before mingling with that 
mighty stream. Montcalm's troops were more numerous than the 
assailants ; but the greater part were Canadians and savages. 
They were entrenched along the 'northern shore below the city, 
from the river St. Charles to the Falls of Montmorency. 

The night after the debarkation of Wolfe's troops a furious 
storm caused great damage to the transports, and sank some of 
the small craft. While it was still raging, a number of fire-ships, 
sent to destroy the fleet, came driving down. They were boarded 
intrepidly by British seamen, and towed out of the way. After 
much resistance, Wolfe established batteries at the west point of 
the Isle of Orleans, and at Point Levi, on the right (or south) 
bank of the St. Lawrence, within cannon range of the city. From 
Point Levi bombshells and red-hot shot were discharged ; many 
houses were set on fire in the upper town ; the lower town was 
reduced to rubbish ; the main fort, however, remained unharmed. 

Anxious for a decisive action, Wolfe, on the 9th of July, crossed 
over in boats from the Isle of Orleans, to the north bank of the 
St. Lawrence, and encamped below the Montmorency. It was an 
ill-judged position, for there was still that tumultuous stream, with 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 119 

its rocky banks, between him and the camp of Montcahii ; but 
the ground he had chosen was higher than that occupied by the 
latter, and the Montmorency had a ford below the falls, passable 
at low tide. Another ford was discovered, three miles within land, 
but the banks were steep and shagged with forest. At both fords 
the vigilant Montcalm had thrown up breastworks, and posted 
troops. 

On the 1 8th of July, Wolfe made a reconnoitering expedition 
up the river. He passed Quebec unharmed, and carefully noted 
the shores above it. Rugged cliffs rose almost from the water's 
edge. Above them, he was told, was an extent of level ground, 
called the Plains of Abraham, by which the upper town might be 
approached on its weakest side ; but how was that plain to be 
attained, when the cliffs, for the most part, were inaccessible, and 
every practicable place fortified ? 

He returned to the Montmorency disappointed, and resolved to 
attack Montcalm in his camp, but his orders were misunderstood, 
and confusion was the consequence. A sheeted fire mowed down 
his grenadiers, and he at length gave up the attack, and withdrew 
across the river, having lost upwards of four hundred men. 

Wolfe, of a delicate constitution and sensitive nature, was deeply 
mortified by this severe check. The difficulties multiplying around 
him, and the delay of Amherst in hastening to his aid, preyed on 
his spirits and brought on a fever, which for some time incapaci- 
tated him from taking the field. In the midst of his illness he 
called a council of war, in which the whole plan of operations was 
altered. It was determined to convey troops above the town, and 
endeavor to make a diversion in that direction, or draw Montcalm 
into the open field. 

The brief Canadian summer was over ; they were in the month 
of September. The camp at Montmorency was broken up. The 
troops were transported to Point Levi, leaving a sufficient number 
to man the batteries on the Isle of Orleans. On the fifth and 
sixth of September the embarkation took place above Point Levi. 
Montcalm detached Bougainville with fifteen hundred men to keep 
along the north shore above the town, watch the movements of 



120 LIFE OF WASHING TOX. 

the squadron, and prevent a landing. To deceive him, Admiral 
Holmes moved with the ships of war three leagues beyond the 
place where the landing was to be attempted. He was to drop 
down, however, in the night, and protect the landing. Cook, the 
future discoverer, was employed to sound the river and place 
buoys opposite the camp of Montcalm, as if an attack were medi- 
tated in that quarter. 

Wolfe was still suffering under the effects of his late fever. When 
embarked in his midnight enterprise, the presentiment of death 
seems to have cast its shadow over him. A midshipman who was 
present^ used to relate that, as Wolfe sat among his officers, and 
the boats floated down silently with the current, he recited, in low 
and touching tones, Gray's Elegy in a Country Churchyard, then 
just published. One stanza may especially have accorded with 
his melancholy mood. 

" The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 

And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, 
Await alike the inevitable hour. 

The paths of glory lead but to the grave." 

" Gentlemen," said he, when he had finished, '' I would rather 
be the author of that poem than take Quebec." 

The descent was made in flat-bottomed boats, past midnight, 
on the 13th of September. They dropped down silently with the 
swift current. ^''Qiiiva la?" (who goes there?), cried a sentinel 
from the shore. " La France,'' replied a captain in the first boat, 
who understood the French language. "^ quel regiment?'' was 
the demand. '' De la Reine" (the queen's), repHed the captain, 
knowing that regiment was in Bougainville's detachment. For- 
tunately, a convoy of provisions was expected down from Bou- 
gainville's, which the sentinel supposed this to be. ''Passe," cried 
he, and the boats glided on without further challenge. The land- 
ing took place in a cove near Cape Diamond, which still bears 
Wolfe's name. He had observed that a cragged path straggled 
up from it to the Heights of Abraham, which might be climbed, 

1 Afterwards Professor John Robinson of Edinburgh. 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 121 

though with difficulty, and appeared to be sHghtly guarded at top. 
Wolfe was among the first that landed and ascended the steep and 
narrow path, where not more than two could go abreast. Colonel 
Howe, at the same time, with the light infantry and Highlanders, 
scrambled up the woody precipices, helping themselves by the 
roots and branches, and putting to flight a sergeant's guard posted 
at the summit. Wolfe drew up the men in order as they mounted ; 
and by the break of day found himself in possession of the fateful 
Plains of Abraham. 

Montcalm was thunderstruck when word was brought to him in 
his camp that the English were on the heights, threatening the 
weakest part of the town. Abandoning his entrenchments, he 
hastened across the river St. Charles and ascended the heights, 
which slope up gradually from its banks. His force was equal in 
number to that of the English, but a great part was made up of 
colony troops and savages. When he saw the formidable host 
of regulars he had to contend with, he sent off swift messengers to 
summon Bougainville with his detachment to his aid ; and Vau- 
dreuil to reinforce him with fifteen hundred men from the camp. 

The French, in their haste, thinking they were to repel a mei-e 
scouting party, had brought but three light field-pieces with them ; 
the English had but a single gun, which the sailors had dragged 
up the heights. With these they cannonaded each other for a 
time, Montcalm still waiting for the aid he had summoned. At 
length, about nine o'clock, losing all patience, he led on his dis- 
ciplined troops to a close conflict with small arms, the Indians 
to support them by a galling fire from thickets and corn-fields. 
The French advanced gallantly, but irregularly ; firing rapidly, but 
with little effect. The English reserved their fire until their assail- 
ants were within forty yards, and then delivered it in deadly volleys. 
They suffered, however, from the lurking savages, who singled out 
the officers. Wolfe, who was in front of the hne, a conspicuous 
mark, was wounded by a bail in the wrist. He bound his handker- 
chief round the wound and led on the grenadiers, with fixed ba)- 
onets, to charge the foe, who began to waver. Another ball struck 
him in the breast. He felt the wound to be mortal, and feared 



122 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

his fall might dishearten the troops. Leaning on a lieutenant for 
support, " Let not my brave fellows see me drop," said he faintly. 
He was borne off to the rear ; water was brought to quench his 
thirst, and he was asked if he would have a surgeon. " It is need- 
less," he rephed ; "it is all over with me." He desired those about 
him to lay him down. The lieutenant seated himself upon the 
ground, and supported him in his arms. " They run ! they run ! 
see how they run !" cried one of the attendants. "Who run?" 
demanded Wolfe, earnestly, like one aroused from sleep. " 1'he 
enemy, sir ; they give way everywhere." The spirit of the expiring 
hero flashed up. " Go, one of you, my lads, to Colonel Burton ; 
tell him to march Webb's regiment with all speed down to Charles' 
river, to cut off the retreat by the bridge." Then turning on his 
side, " Now, God be praised, I will die in peace ! " said he, and 
expired. 

The centre of the enemy was broken, and the Highlanders were 
making deadly havoc with their claymores, driving the French 
into the town or down to their works on the river St. Charles. By 
this time Bougainville appeared at a distance in the rear, advanc- 
ing with two thousand fresh troops, but he arrived too late to 
retrieve the day. The gallant Montcalm had received his death- 
wound near St. John's Gate, while endeavoring to rally his flying 
troops, and had been borne into the town. When told by his 
surgeon that he could not survive above a few hours, "So much 
the better," replied he ; " I shall not live to see the surrender of 
Quebec." He then called for his chaplain, who, with the bishop 
of the colony, remained with him through the night. He expired 
early in the morning, dying like a brave soldier and a devout 
Cathohc. Never did two worthier foes mingle their life-blood on 
the battle-field than Wolfe and Montcalm. 

Preparations were now made by army and fleet to make an 
attack on both upper and lower town ; but the spirit of the garri- 
son was broken, and the inhabitants were clamorous for the safety 
of their wives and children. On the 17th of September, 1759, 
Quebec capitulated, and was taken possession of by the British. 
A garrison of six thousand effective men was placed in it, under 
the command of Brigadier-general Murray. 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 123 

Had Amherst followed up his success at Ticonderoga, the year's 
campaign would have ended, as had been projected, in the subju- 
gation of Canada. His cautious delay gave Levi, the successor 
of Montcalm, time to rally the scattered French forces, and struggle 
for the salvation of the province. In the following spring, as soon 
as the river St. Lawrence opened, he approached Quebec, and 
landed at Point au Tremble, about twelve miles off. The garrison 
had suffered dreadfully during the winter from excessive cold, want 
of vegetables and of fresh provisions. Many had died of scurvy, 
and many more were ill. On hearing that Levi was advancing 
with ten thousand men and five hundred Indians, Murray sallied 
out with his diminished forces of not more than three thou- 
sand. English soldiers, he boasted, were habituated to victory. 
More brave than discreet, he attacked the vanguard of the enemy ; 
the battle which took place was fierce and sanguinary. Murray's 
troops had caught his own headlong valor, and fought until near 
a third of their number were slain. They were at length driven 
back into the town, leaving their artillery on the field. Levi 
opened trenches before the town the same evening. By the nth 
of May, he had one bomb battery and three batteries of cannon 
in operation. Murray, equally alert within the walls, strengthened 
his defences and kept up a vigorous fire. His garrison was now 
reduced to two hundred and twenty effective men, and he was 
driven almost to despair, when a British fleet arrived in the river. 
The whole scene was now reversed. One of the French frigates 
was driven on the rocks above Cape Diamond ; another ran on 
shore, and was burnt ; the rest of their vessels were either taken 
or destroyed. The besieging arm}^ retreated in the night, leaving 
provisions, implements, and artillery behind them ; and so rapid 
was their flight, that Murray, who sallied forth on the following 
day, could not overtake them. 

A last stand for the preservation of the colony was now made 
by the French at Montreal, where Vaudreuil fortified himself, and 
called in all possible aid, Canadian and Indian. But when 
Amherst presented himself before the town, Vaudreuil found him- 
self threatened by an army of nearly ten thousand men, and a 



124 IJFE OF WASHINGTON. 

host of Indians, for Amherst had called in the aid of Sir William 
Johnson and his Mohawk braves. To withstand a siege in an 
almost open town against such superior force was out of the ques- 
tion, especially as Murray from Quebec was at hand with addi- 
tional troops. A capitulation accordingly took place on the 8th 
of September, including the surrender not merely of Montreal, but 
of all Canada. 

Thus ended the contest between France and England for 
dominion in America, in which, as has been said, the first gim was 
fired in Washington's encounter with De Jumonville. A French 
statesman, the Count de Vergennes, consoled himself by the per- 
suasion that it would be a fatal triumph to England. It would 
remove the only check by which her colonies were kept in awe. 
" They will no longer need her protection," said he ; " she will 
call on them to contribute tow^ard supporting the burdens they 
have helped to bring on her, and they will ans7uer by striking off 
all dependence.^'' 

"Washington at Home. — For three months after his marriage ^ 
Washington resided with his bride at the " White House." Dur- 
ing his sojourn there, he repaired to Williamsburg, to take his seat 
in the House of Burgesses. By a vote of the House, it had been 
determined to greet his installation by a signal testimonial of re- 
spect. Accordingly, as soon as he took his seat, Mr. Robinson, 
the Speaker, in eloquent language, returned thanks, on behalf of 
the colony, for the distinguished military services he had rendered 
to his country. Washington rose to reply ; blushed — stammered 
— trembled, and could not utter a word. " Sit down, Mr. Wash- 
ington," said the Speaker, with a smile ; " your modesty equals 
your valor, and that surpasses the power of any language I 
possess." 

Such was Washington's first launch into civil life, in which he 
was to be distinguished by the same judgment, devotion, courage, 
and magnanimity exhibited in his military career. He attended 
the House frequently during the remainder of the session, after 
which he conducted his bride to his favorite abode of Mount 
Vernon. 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 125 

Mr. Ciistis, the first husband of Mrs. Washington, had left 
large landed property, and ^45,000 in money. One-third fell 
to his widow in her own right ; two-thirds were inherited equally 
by her two children, — a boy of six, and a girl of four years of 
age. By a decree of the General Court, Washington was intrusted 
with the care of the property inherited by the children; a sacred 
and delicate trust, which he discharged in the most faithful and 
judicious manner ; becoming more like a parent than a mere 
guardian to them. 

From a letter to his correspondent in England, it would appear 
that he had long entertained a desire to visit that country. Had 
he done so, his acknowledged merit and military ser\'ices would 
have insured him a distinguished reception ; but his marriage had 
put an end to all travelling inclinations. In his letter from Mount 
Vernon, he writes : " I am now, I believe, fixed in this seat, with 
an agreeable partner for life, and I hope to find more happiness 
in retirement than I ever experienced in the wide and bustling 
world."'' This was no Utopian dream transiently indulged, amid 
the charms of novelty. Throughout the whole course of his 
career, agricultural life appears to have been his beau ideal of ex- 
istence, which haunted his thoughts even amid the stern duties of 
the field. Mount Vernon was his harbor of repose, where he re- 
peatedly furled his sail, and fancied himself anchored for life. No 
impulse of ambition tempted him thence ; nothing but the call of 
his country, and his devotion to the public good. The place was 
endeared to him by the remembrance of happy days passed there, 
in boyhood, with his brother Lawrence ; but it was a delightful 
place in itself. The mansion was beautifully situated on a swelling- 
height, crowned with wood, and commanding a magnificent view 
up and down the Potomac. The grounds immediately about it 
were laid out in the English taste. The estate w^as apportioned 
into separate farms, devoted to different kinds of culture, each 
having its allotted laborers. Much, however, was still covered with 
wild woods, seamed with deep dells and runs of water, and in- 
dented with inlets ; haunts of deer, and lurking-places of foxes. 
The whole woody region along the Potomac, from Mount Vernon 



126 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

to Belvoir, and far beyond, with its range of forests and hills, and 
picturesque promontories, afforded sport of various kinds, and was 
a noble hunting-ground. Washington had hunted through it with 
old Lord Fairfax in his stripling days ; we do not wonder that his 
feelings throughout life incessantly reverted to it. 

These were, as yet, the aristocratic days of Virginia. The 
estates were large, and continued in the same families by entails. 
Many of the wealthy planters were connected with old families in 
England. The young men, especially the elder sons, were often 
sent to finish their education there, and on their return brought 
out the tastes and habits of the mother country. The governors 
of Virginia were from the higher ranks of society, and maintained 
a corresponding state. The " Established," or Episcopal Church, 
predominated throughout the ancient " dominion," as it was 
termed ; each county was divided into parishes, as in England, — 
each with its parochial church, its parsonage and glebe. Wash- 
ington was vestryman of two parishes, Fairfax and Truro ; the 
parochial church of the former was at Alexandria, ten miles from 
Mount Vernon ; of the latter, at Pohick, about seven miles. The 
church at Pohick was rebuilt on a plan of his own, and in a great 
measure at his expense. At one or other of these churches he 
attended every Sunday, when weather and roads permitted. 

The Virginian houses in those days were spacious, commodious, 
liberal in all their appointments, and fitted to cope with the free- 
handed, open-hearted hospitahty of the owners. Nothing was 
more common than to see handsome services of plate, elegant 
equipages, and superb carriage horses — all imported from Eng- 
land. The Virginians have always been noted for their love of 
horses, and the rich planters vied with each other in their studs, 
importing the best English stocks. 

Washington, by his marriage, had added above one hundred 
thousand dollars to his already considerable fortune, and was 
enabled to live in ample and dignified style. His intimacy with 
the Fairfaxes, and his intercourse with British officers of rank, 
had perhaps their influence on his mode of living. He had his 
chariot and four, with black postilions in livery, for the use of Mrs. 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 127 

Washington and her lady visitors. As for himself, he always 
appeared on horseback. His stable was well filled and admirably 
regulated. His stud was thoroughbred and in excellent order. 
His household books contain registers of the names, ages, and 
marks of his various horses ; such as Ajax, Blueskin, Valiant, 
Magnoha (an Arab), etc. Also his dogs, chiefly fox-hounds, 
Vulcan, Singer, Ring^vood, Sweetlips, Forester, Music, Rockwood, 
Truelove, etc. 

A large Virginia estate, in those days, was a little empire. The 
mansion-house was the seat of government, with its numerous 
dependencies, such as kitchens, smoke-houses, workshops, and 
stables. In this mansion the planter ruled supreme ; his steward 
or overseer was his prime minister and executive officer ; he had 
his legion of house negroes for domestic service, and his host of 
field negroes for the culture of tobacco, Indian corn, and other 
crops, and for other out of door labor. Their quarter formed a 
kind of hamlet apart, composed of various huts, with little gardens 
and poultry yards, all well stocked, and swarms of little negroes 
gambolling in the sunshine. Then there were large wooden 
edifices for curing tobacco, the staple and most profitable pro- 
duction, and mills for grinding wheat and Indian corn, of which 
large fields were cultivated for the supply of the family and the 
maintenance of the negroes. 

Among the slaves were artificers of all kinds, tailors, shoe- 
makers, carpenters, smiths, wheelwrights, and so forth ; so that 
a plantation produced everything within itself for ordinary use : 
as to articles of fashion and elegance, luxuries, and expensive 
clothing, they were imported from London ; for the planters on 
the main rivers, especially the Potomac, carried on an immediate 
trade with England. Their tobacco was put up by their own 
negroes, bore their own marks, was shipped on board of vessels 
which came up the rivers for the purpose, and consigned to some 
agent in Liverpool or Bristol, with whom the planter kept an 
account. 

The Virginia planters were prone to leave the care of their 
estates too much to their overseers, and to think personal labor 



128 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

a degradation. Washington carried into his rural affairs the same 
method, activity, and circumspection that had distinguished him 
in mihtary hfe. He kept his own accounts, posted up his books 
and balanced them with mercantile exactness. The products of 
his estate became so noted for the faithfulness, as to quality and 
(juantity, with which they were put up, that it is said any barrel of 
flour that bore the brand of George Washington, Mount Vernon, 
was exempted from the customary inspection in the West India 
ports. 

He was an early riser, often before daybreak in the winter when 
the nights were long. On such occasions he lit his own fire, and 
wrote or read by candle-light. He breakfasted at seven in sum- 
mer, at eight in winter. Two small cups of tea and three or four 
cakes of Indian meal (called hoe-cakes) formed his frugal repast. 
Immediately after breakfast he mounted his horse and visited 
those parts of the estate where any work was going on, seeing to 
everything with his own eyes, and often aiding with his own hand. 
He treated his negroes with kindness ; attended to their comforts ; 
was particularly careful of them in sickness ; but never tolerated 
idleness, and exacted a faithful performance of all their allotted 
tasks. He had a quick eye at calculating each man's capabilities. 

Dinner was served at two o'clock. He ate heartily, but was 
not critical about his food. His beverage was small beer or 
cider, and two glasses of old Madeira. He took tea, of which 
he was very fond, early in the evening, and retired for the night 
about nine o'clock. 

Washington delighted in the chase. In the hunting season, 
when he rode out early in the morning to visit distant parts of the 
estate where work was going on, he often took some of the dogs 
with him for the chance of starting a fox, which he occasionally 
did, though he was not always successful in killing him. He was 
a bold rider and an admirable horseman, though he never claimed 
the merit of being an accomphshed fox-hunter. In the height of 
the season, however, he would be out with the fox-hounds two or 
three times a week, accompanied by his guests at Mount Vernon 
and the gentlemen of the neighborhood, especially the Fairfaxes 



THE GREAT FRENCH WAR. 129 

of Belvoir. On such occasions there would be a hunting dinner 
at one or other of those estabhshments, at which convivial repasts 
Washington is said to have enjoyed himself with unwonted hilarity. 
The waters of the Potomac also afforded occasional amusement in 
fishing and shooting. The fishing was sometimes on a grand scale, 
when the herrings came up the river in shoals, and the negroes of 
Mount Vernon were marshalled forth to draw the seine. Canvas- 
back ducks abounded at the proper season, and the shooting of 
them was one of Washington's favorite recreations. 

Occasionally he and Mrs. Washington would pay a visit to 
Annapolis, at that time the seat of government of Maryland, and 
partake of the gayeties which prevailed during the session of the 
legislature. The society of these seats of provincial government 
was always polite and fashionable, and more exclusive than in 
these republican days, being, in a manner, the outposts of the 
English aristocracy, where all places of dignity or profit were se- 
cured for younger sons, and poor, but proud relatives. During 
the session of the legislature, dinners and balls abounded, and 
there were occasional attempts at theatricals. The latter was an 
amusement for which Washington always had a relish, though he 
never had an opportunity of gratifying it effectually. Neither was 
he disinclined to mingle in the dance, and we remember to have 
heard venerable ladies, who had been belles in his day, pride 
themselves on having had him for a partner, though, they added, 
he was apt to be a ceremonious and grave one. 

In this round of rural occupation, rural amusements, and social 
intercourse, Washington passed several tranquil years, the halcyon 
season of his life. His already established reputation drew many 
visitors to Mount Vernon ; some of his early companions in arms 
were his occasional guests, and his friendships and connections 
linked him with some of the most prominent and worthy people 
of the country, who were sure to be received with cordial, but 
simple and unpretending hospitality. His domestic concerns and 
social enjoyments, however, were not permitted to interfere with 
his public duties. He was active by nature, and eminently a man 
of business by habit. As judge of the county court, and member 



130 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of the House of Burgesses, he had numerous calls upon his time 
and thoughts, and was often drawn from home ; for whatever trust 
he undertook, he was sure to fulfil with scrupulous exactness. 

Pontiac's War. — Tidings of peace gladdened the colonies in 
the spring of 1763. The definitive treaty between England and 
France had been signed at Fontainebleau. Now, it was trusted, 
there would be an end to those horrid ravages that had desolated 
the interior of the country. "The desert and the silent place 
would rejoice, and the wilderness would blossom like the rose." 

The month of May proved the fallacy of such hopes. In that 
month the famous insurrection of the Indian tribes broke out, 
which, from the name of the chief who was its prime mover and 
master spirit, is commonly called Pontiac's War. The Delawares 
and Shawnees, and other of those tribes of the Ohio, among 
whom Washington had mingled, were foremost in this conspiracy. 
Some of the chiefs who had been his allies, had now taken up the 
hatchet against the English. The plot was deep-laid, and conducted 
with Indian craft and secrecy. At a concerted time an attack 
was made upon all the posts from Detroit to Fort Pitt (late Fort 
Duquesne). Several of the small stockaded forts, the places of 
refuge of woodland neighborhoods, were surprised and sacked with 
remorseless butchery. The frontiers of Pennsylvania, Maryland, 
and Virginia, were laid waste ; traders in the wilderness were plun- 
dered and slain ; hamlets and farm-houses were wrapped in flames, 
and their inhabitants massacred. It needed all the influence of 
Sir William Johnson to keep the Six Nations from joining this for- 
midable conspiracy ; had they done so, the triumph of the toma- 
hawk and scalping-knife would have been complete ; as it was, a 
considerable time elapsed before the frontier was restored to toler- 
able tranquiflity. 

§ 3. Beginnings of the Revolution. 

The Stamp Act. — Public events were now taking a tendency 
which, without any political aspiration or forethought of his own, 
was destined gradually to bear Washington away from his quiet 



BEGINNINGS OF THE REVOLUTION. 131 

home and pursuits, and launch him upon a grander and wider 
sphere of action than any in which he had hitherto been engaged. 

The prediction of the Count de Vergennes was in the process 
of fulfilment. The recent war of Great Britain for dominion 
in America, though crowned with success, had engendered a 
progeny of discontents in her colonies. From the beginning, the 
commercial policy of Great Britain toward the colonies had 
been wholly restrictive. " It was the system of a monopoly." 
Her navigation laws had shut their ports against foreign vessels ; 
obliged them to export their productions only to countries belong- 
ing to the British crown ; to import European goods solely from 
England, and in English ships ; and had subjected the trade be- 
tween the colonies to duties. All manufactures, too, in the colo- 
nies that might interfere with those of the mother country had been 
either totally prohibited, or subjected to intolerable restraints. 
The acts of Parliament, imposing these prohibitions and restric- 
tions, had at various times produced sore discontent and oppo- 
sition on the part of the colonies, especially among those of New 
England. There was nothing, however, to which the jealous sen- 
sibilities of the colonies were more alive than to any attempt of 
the mother country to draw a revenue from them by taxation. 
From the earliest period of their existence, they had maintained 
the principle that they could only be taxed by a legislature in 
which they were represented. 

During the progress of the French war, various projects were 
discussed in England with regard to the colonies, which were to 
be carried into effect on the return of peace. The open avowal 
of some of these plans, and vague rumors of others, more than 
ever irritated the jealous feelings of the colonists. 

In 1760, there was an attempt in Boston to collect duties on 
foreign sugar and molasses imported into the colonies. Writs of 
assistance were applied for by the custom-house officers, author- 
izing them to break open ships, stores, and private dwellings, in 
quest of articles that had paid no duty ; and to call the assistance 
of others in the discharge of their odious task. The merchants 
opposed the execution of the writ on constitutional grounds. The 



132 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

question was argued in court, where James Otis spoke so eloquently 
in vindication of American rights, that all his hearers went away 
ready to take arms against writs of assistance. " Then and there," 
says John Adams, who was present, " )vas the first scene of oppo- 
sition to the arbitrary claims of Great Britain. Then and there 
American Independence was born." 

Another ministerial measure was to instruct the provincial gov- 
ernors to commission judges, not as theretofore " during good 
behavior," but "during the king's pleasure." New York was the 
first to resent this blow at the independence of the judiciary. The 
lawyers appealed to the public through the press against an act 
which subjected the halls of justice to the prerogative. Their 
appeals were felt beyond the bounds of the province, and awakened 
a general spirit of resistance. Thus matters stood at the conclu- 
sion of the war. 

In March, 1765, the Parliament passed George Grenville's Stamp 
Act, according to which all instruments in writing were to be ex- 
ecuted on stamped paper, to be purchased from the agents of the 
British government. What was more : all offences against the 
act could be tried in any royal, marine, or admiralty court through- 
out the colonies, however distant from the place where the offence 
had been committed ; thus interfering with that most inestimable 
right, a trial by jury. 

It was an ominous sign that the first burst of opposition to this 
act should take place in Virginia. That colony had hitherto been 
slow to accord with the repubhcan spirit of New England. More- 
over, it had not so many pecuniary interests involved in these 
questions as had the people of New England, being an agricultural 
rather than a commercial province ; but the Virginians are of a 
quick and generous spirit, readily aroused on all points of honor- 
able pride, and they resented the stamp act as an outrage on their 
rights. 

Washington occupied his seat in the House of Burgesses, when, 
on the 29th of May, the stamp act became a subject of discussion. 
Among the burgesses sat Patrick Henry, a young lawyer who 
had recently distinguished himself by pleading against the exercise 



BEGINNINGS OF THE REVOLUTION 133 

of the royal prerogative in church matters, and who was now for 
the first time a member of the House. Rising in his place, he 
introduced his celebrated resolutions, declaring that the General 
Assembly of Virginia had the exclusive right and power to lay 
taxes and impositions upon the inhabitants, and that whoever 
maintained the contrary should be deemed an enemy to the col- 
ony. The Speaker, Mr. Robinson, objected to the resolutions, as 
inflammatory. Henry vindicated them ; went into an able and 
constitutional discussion of colonial rights, and an eloquent expo- 
sition of the manner in which they had been assailed ; wound up 
by one of those daring flights of declamation for which he was 
remarkable, and startled the House by a warning flash from his- 
tory : " Csesar had his Brutus, Charles his Cromwell, and George 
the Third — ('Treason ! treason ! ' resounded from the neighbor- 
hood of the Chair) — may profit by their examples," added 
Henry. "Sir, if this be treason (bowing to the Speaker), make 
the most of it ! " The resolutions were modified, to accommodate 
them, to the scruples of the Speaker and some of the members, but 
their spirit was retained. The Lieutenant-governor (Fauquier), 
startled by this patriotic outbreak, dissolved the Assembly, and 
issued writs for a new election ; but the clarion had sounded. 
The resolves of the Assembly of Virginia gave the signal for a 
general outcry over the continent, and roused one legislative body 
after another to follow the example of that of Virginia. At the 
instigation of Massachusetts, a Congress was held in New York in 
October, composed of delegates from Massachusetts, Rhode Island, 
Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, 
Maryland, and South Carolina. In this they denounced the acts 
of Parliament imposing taxes on them without their consent, and 
extending the jurisdiction of the courts of admiralty, as violations 
of their rights and liberties as natural born subjects of Great 
Britain, and prepared an address to the king, and a pedtion to 
both Houses of Parliament, praying for redress. 

The very preparations for enforcing the stamp act called forth 
popular tumults in various places. In Boston the stamp distribu- 
ter was hanged in effigy ; his windows were broken ; a house in- 



134 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

tended for a stamp office was pulled down, and the effigy burnt in 
a bonfire made of the fragments. The stamp officer next day 
publicly renounced the perilous office. The ist of November, the 
day when the act was to go into operation, was ushered in with por- 
tentous solemnities. At Boston the ships displayed their colors 
at half-mast. Many shops were shut; funeral knells resounded 
from the steeples, and there was a grand auto-da-f^, in which the 
promoters of the act were paraded, and suffered martyrdom in 
effigy. At New York the printed act was carried about the streets 
on a pole surmounted by a death's head, with a scroll bearing the 
inscription, " The folly of England and ruin of America." No one 
would venture to carry the stamp act into execution. In fact no 
stamped paper was to be seen ; all had been either destroyed or 
concealed. All transactions which required stamps to give them 
validity were suspended, or were executed by private compact. 
The courts of justice were closed, until at length some conducted 
their business without stamps. Union was becoming the watch- 
word. The merchants of New York, Philadelphia, Boston, and 
such other colonies as had ventured publicly to oppose the stamp 
act, agreed to import no more British manufactures after the ist of 
January unless it should be repealed. So passed away the year 

1765- 

Revenue Acts of 1767. — On the i8th of March, 1766, the act 
was repealed, to the great joy of the sincere friends of both coun- 
tries, and to no one more than to Washington. Still, there was a 
fatal clause in the repeal, which declared that the king, with the 
consent of Parliament, had power and authority to make laws and 
statutes of sufficient force and validity to " bind the colonies, and 
people of America, in all cases whatsoever." As the people of 
America were contending for principles, not mere pecuniary in- 
terests, this reserved power of the Crown and Padiament left the 
dispute still open. Further aliment for public discontent was fur- 
nished by other acts of Parliament. One imposed duties on glass, 
pasteboard, white and red lead, painters' colors, and tea; the 
duties to be collected on the arrival of the articles in the colonies ; 
another empowered naval officers to enforce the acts of trade and 
navigation. 



BEGINNINGS OF THE REVOLUTION. 135 

Boston continued to be the focus of what the ministeriahsts 
termed sedition. The General Court of Massachusetts, not con- 
tent with petitioning the king for rehef against the recent measures 
of ParHament, drew up a circular, caUing on the other colonial 
legislatures to join with them in suitable efforts to obtain redress. 
In the ensuing session, Governor Bernard called upon them to 
rescind the resolution on which the circular was founded, — they 
refused to comply, and the General Court was consequently dis- 
solved. The governors of other colonies required of their legis- 
latures an assurance that they would not reply to the Massachusetts 
circular, — these legislatures likewise refused compliance, and were 
dissolved. All this added to the growing excitement. 

In consequence of repeated collisions between the people of 
Boston and the commissioners of customs, two regiments of sol- 
diers were sent to that town and encamped on the Common, to 
the great indignation of the public, who were grievously scandalized 
at seeing field-pieces planted in front of the state-house and sen- 
tinels stationed at the doors ; and, above all, at having the sacred 
quiet of the Sabbath disturbed by drum and fife. 

Early in 1770 an important change took place in the British 
cabinet. The reins of government passed into the hands of Lord 
North, a man of considerable capacity, but a favorite of the king, 
and subservient to his narrow colonial policy. His administration, 
so eventful to America, commenced with an error. In the month 
of March, an act was passed, revoking all the duties laid in 1767, 
excepting that on tea. This single tax was continued, as he ob- 
served, " to maintain the parliamentary right of taxation," — the very 
right which was the grand object of contest. In this, however, he 
was in fact yielding, against his better judgment, to the stubborn 
tenacity of the king. He endeavored to reconcile the opposition, 
and perhaps himself, to the measure, by plausible reasoning. An 
impost of threepence on the pound could never, he alleged, be 
opposed by the colonists, unless they were determined to rebel 
against Great Britain. 

Here was the stumbling-block at the threshold of Lord North's 
administration. In vain the members of the opposition urged that 



136 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

this single exception, while it would produce no revenue, would 
keep alive the whole cause of contention ; that so long as a single 
external duty was enforced, the colonies would consider their 
rights invaded and would remain unappeased. Lord North was 
not to be convinced ; or rather, he knew the royal will was inflex- 
ible, and he complied with its behests. "The properest time to 
exert our right to taxation," said he, "is when the right is refused. 
To temporize is to yield ; and the authority of the mother country, 
if it is now unsupported, will be relinquished forever : a total repeal 
cannot be thought of till America is pi'ostrate at our feet'' 

On the very day (March 5, 1770) in which this ominous bill was 
passed in Parliament, a sinister occurrence took place in Boston. 
Some of the young men of the place insulted the military; the 
latter resented it; the young men, after a scuffle, were put to 
flight, and pursued. The alarm bells rang ; a mob assembled ; 
the custom-house was threatened ; the troops in protecting it 
were assailed with clubs and stones, and obliged to use their fire- 
arms, before the tumult could be quelled. Five of the populace 
were killed, and six wounded, two of them mortally. The troops 
were now removed from the town, which remained in the highest 
state of exasperation ; and this untoward occurrence received the 
opprobrious and extravagant name of "the Boston massacre." 

The colonists, as a matter of convenience, resumed the con- 
sumption of those articles on which the duties had been repealed ; 
but continued, on principle, the rigorous disuse of tea, excepting 
such as had been smuggled in. New England was particularly 
earnest in the matter ; many of the inhabitants, in the spirit of 
their Puritan progenitors, made a covenant, to drink no more of 
the forbidden beverage until the duty on tea should be repealed. 

The Boston Tea-Party. — This covenant operated disastrously 
against the interests of the East India Company, and produced an 
immense accumulation of the proscribed article in their ware- 
houses. To remedy this. Lord North brought in a bill (1773), by 
which the Company were allowed to export their teas from England 
to any part whatever, without paying export duty. This, by 
enabling them to offer their teas at a low price in the colonies 



BEGINNINGS OF THE REVOLUTION. 137 

would, he supposed, tempt the Americans to purchase large quan- 
tities, thus relieving the Company, and at the same time benefiting 
the revenue by the impost duty. Confiding in the wisdom of this 
policy, the Company disgorged their warehouses, freighted several 
ships with tea, and sent them to various parts of the colonies. 
This brought matters to a crisis. One sentiment, one determina- 
tion pervaded the whole continent. Taxadon was to receive its 
definitive blow. Whoever submitted to it was an enemy to his 
country. From New York and Philadelphia the ships were sent 
back, with their cargoes, to London. In Charleston the tea was 
unloaded, and stored away in cellars and other places, where it 
perished. hX Boston the action was still more decisive. The 
ships anchored in the harbor. Some small parcels of tea were 
brought on shore, but the sale of them was prohibited. The cap- 
tains of the ships, seeing the desperate state of the case, would 
have made sail back for England, but they could not obtain the 
consent of the consignees, a clearance at the custom-house, or a 
passport from the governor to clear the port. It was evident the 
tea was to be forced upon the people of Boston, and the principle 
of taxation established. 

To settle the matter completely, and prove that, on a point of 
principle, they were not to be trifled with, a number of the inhabi- 
tants, disguised as Indians, boarded the ships in the evening 
(i6th December), broke open all the chests of tea, and emptied 
the contents into the sea. This was no rash and intemperate pro- 
ceeding of a mob, but the well-considered, though resolute act, of 
sober, respectable citizens, men of reflection, but determination. 
The whole was done calmly, and in perfect order ; after which the 
actors in the scene dispersed without tumult, and returned quiedy 
to their homes. 

The general opposition of the colonies to the principle of taxation 
had given great annoyance to the government, but this individual 
act concentrated all its wrath upon Boston. A bill was forthwith 
passed in Parliament (commonly caUed the Boston port bill), by 
which ah lading and unlading of goods, wares, and merchandise, 
were to cease in that town and harbor on and after the ist of 



138 LIFE OF WASHING TOy. 

June, 1774, and the seat of government was to be transferred to 
Salem. 

Another law, passed soon after, altered the charter of the prov- 
ince, decreemg that all counsellors, judges, and magistrates should 
be appointed by the Crown, and hold office during the royal 
pleasure. 

This was followed by a third, intended for the suppression of 
riots ; and providing that any person indicted for murder or other 
capital offence, committed in aiding the magistracy, might be sent 
by the governor to some other colony, or to Great Britain, for trial. 

Such was the bolt of Parliamentary wrath fulminated against the 
devoted town of Boston. Before it fell, there was a session in May 
of the Virginia House of Burgesses. All things were going on 
smoothly there, when a letter brought intelligence of these vindic- 
tive measures of Parhament. The letter was read in the House 
of Burgesses, and produced a general burst of indignation. All 
other business was thrown aside, and this became the sole subject 
of discussion. A protest against this and other recent acts of 
Parhament was entered upon the journal of the House, and a 
resolution was adopted, on the 24th of May, setting apart the ist 
of June as a day of fasting, prayer, and humiliation ; in which the 
divine interposition was to be implored, to avert the heavy calamity 
threatening destruction to their rights, and all the evils of civil 
war; and to give the people one heart and one mind in firmly 
opposing every injury to American liberties. 

On the following morning, while the Burgesses were engaged in 
animated debate, they were summoned to attend Lord Dunmore 
in the council chamber, where he made them the following laconic 
speech : " Mr. Speaker, and Gentlemen of the House of Burgesses : 
I have in my hand a paper, published by order of your House, 
conceived in such terms as reflect highly upon His Majesty, and 
the Parliament of Great Britain, which makes it necessary for me 
to dissolve you, and you are dissolved accordingly." 

As on a former occasion, the Assembly, though dissolved, was 
not dispersed. The members adjourned to the long room of the 
old Raleigh tavern, and passed resolutions, denouncing the Boston 



BEGINNINGS OF THE REVOLUTION. 139 

port bill as a most dangerous attempt to destroy the constitutional 
liberty and rights of all North America; recommending their 
countrymen to desist from the use, not merely of tea, but of all 
kinds of East Indian commodities ; pronouncing an attack on one 
of the colonies, to enforce arbitrary taxes, an attack on all ; and 
ordering the committee of correspondence to communicate with 
the other corresponding committees, on the expediency of appoint- 
ing deputies from the several colonies of British America, to meet 
annually in General Congress, at such place as might be deemed 
expedient, to deliberate on such measures as the united interests 
of the colonies might require. 

This was the first recommendation of a General Congress by 
any public assembly, though it had been previously proposed in 
town meetings at New York and Boston. A resolution to the same 
effect was passed in the Assembly of Massachusetts before it was 
aware of the proceedings of the Virginia Legislature. The meas- 
ure recommended met with prompt concurrence throughout the 
colonies, and the 5th day of September next was fixed upon for 
the first Congress, which was to be held at Philadelphia. 

On the I St of June the harbor of Boston was closed, and all 
business ceased. The two other Parliamentary acts altering the 
charter of Massachusetts were to be enforced. No public meeting, 
excepting the annual town meetings in March and May, were to 
be held without permission of the governor. General Thomas Gage, 
who had recently been appointed to the military command of 
Massachusetts. He was the same officer who had led the advance 
guard on the field of Braddock's defeat. Fortune had since gone 
well with him. Rising in the service, he had been governor of 
Montreal, and had succeeded Amherst in the command of the 
British forces on this continent. He was linked to the country 
also by domestic ties, having married into one of the most respect- 
able families of New Jersey. In the various situations in which 
he had hitherto been placed he had won esteem, and rendered 
himself popular. Not much, however, was expected from him in 
his present post by those who knew him well. With all Gage's 
experience in America, he had formed a most erroneous opinion 



140 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of the character of the people. " The Americans," said he to the 
king, '' will be lions only as long as the English are lambs ; " and 
he engaged, with four regiments, to keep Boston quiet ! The 
manner in which his attempts to enforce the recent acts of Parlia- 
ment were resented, showed how egregiously he was in error. 
From the time of taking command at Boston he was perplexed 
how to manage its inhabitants. Had they been hot-headed and 
prone to paroxysm, his task would have been easy ; but it was the 
cool, shrewd common sense, by which all their movements were 
regulated, that confounded him. 

High-handed measures failed of the anticipated effect. Their 
harbor had been thronged with ships ; their town with troops. 
The port bill put an end to commerce ; wharves were deserted, 
warehouses closed ; streets grass-grown and silent. The rich were 
growing poor, and the poor were without employ ; yet the spirit 
of the people was unbroken. There was no uproar, however; 
everything was awfully systematic and according to rule. Town 
meetings were held, in which public rights and pubhc meas- 
ures were eloquently discussed by John Adams, Josiah Quincy, and 
other eminent men. Over these meetings Samuel Adams presided 
as moderator ; a man clear in judgment, calm in conduct, inflex- 
ible in resolution ; deeply grounded in civil and political history, 
and infallible on all points of constitutional law. 

Alarmed at the powerful influence of these assemblages, govern- 
ment issued an act prohibiting them after the ist of August. The 
act was evaded by convoking the meetings before that day, and 
keeping them alive indefinitely. Gage was at a loss how to act. 
It would not do to disperse these assemblages by force of arms ; 
for the people who composed them mingled the soldier with the 
polemic ; and, like their prototypes, the Covenanters of yore, if 
prone to argue, were as ready to fight. So the meetings continued 
to be held pertinaciously. Faneuil Hall was at times unable to 
hold them, and they swarmed from that revolutionary hive into the 
Old South Church. The liberty-tree became a rallying place for 
any popular movement, and a flag hoisted on it was saluted by all 
processions as the emblem of the popular cause. 



BEGINNINGS OF THE REVOIUTION. 141 

The Continental Congress. — Congress assembled on Monday, 
the f^of September, in a large room in Carpenter's Hall, Phila- 
delpiwa. There were fifty-one delegates, representing all the colo- 
nies excepting Georgia. Washington was one of the delegates 
from Virginia. The meeting has been described as " awfully sol- 
emn." The most eminent men of the various colonies were now 
for the first time brought together ; they were known to each other 
by fame, but were, personally, strangers. The object which had 
called them together was of incalculable magnitude. The liberties 
of no less than three millions of people, with that of all their pos- 
terity, were staked on the wisdom and energy of their councils. 

Owing to closed doors, and the want of reporters, no record 
exists of the discussions and speeches made in the first Congress. 

The first public measure was a resolution declaratory of their 
feelings with regard to the recent acts of Parliament, violating the 
rights of the people of Massachusetts, and of their determination 
to combine in resisting any force that might attempt to carry those 
acts into execution. A committee of two from each province re- 
ported a series of resolutions, which were adopted by Congress, as 
a "declaration of colonial rights." In this were enumerated -their 
natural rights to the enjoyment of life, Hberty, and property ; and 
their rights as British subjects. Among the latter was participation 
in legislative councils. This they could not exercise through rep- 
resentatives in Parliament ; they claimed, therefore, the power of 
legislating in their provincial Assemblies, consenting, however, to 
such acts of Parliament as might be essential to the regulation of 
trade ; but excluding all taxation for raising revenue in America. 

Then followed a specification of the acts of Parliament, passed 
during the reign of George III., infringing and violating their rights. 
" To these grievous acts and measures," it was added, " Americans 
cannot submit ; but in hopes their fellow-subjects in Great Britain 
will, on a revision of them, restore us to that state in which both 
countries found happiness and prosperity, we have, for the present, 
only resolved to pursue the following peaceable measures : — 

" I St. To enter into a non-importation, non-consumption, and 
non-exportation agreement, or association. 



142 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

" 2d. To prepare an address to the people of Great Britain, and 
a memorial to the inhabitants of British America. 

" 3d. To prepare a loyal address to His Majesty." 

The above-mentioned association was accordingly formed, and 
committees were to be appointed in every county, city, and town, 
to maintain it vigilantly and strictly. 

The Congress remained in session fifty-one days. The papers 
issued by it have deservedly been pronounced masterpieces of 
practical talent and political wisdom. Chatham, when speaking 
on the subject in the House of Lords, could not restrain his en- 
thusiasm. " When your lordships," said he, " look at the papers 
transmitted to us from America ; when you consider their decency, 
firmness, and wisdom, you cannot but respect their cause, and 
wish to make it your own. For myself, I must declare and avow 
that, in the master states of the world, I know not the people, or 
senate, who, in such a complication of difiicult circumstances, can 
stand in preference to the delegates of America assembled in 
General Congress at Philadelphia." 

From the secrecy that enveloped its discussions, we are igno- 
rant of the part taken by Washington in the debates ; but when 
Patrick Henry was asked, on his return home, whom he considered 
the greatest man in Congress, he replied : ''If you speak of elo- 
quence, Mr. Rutledge, of South Carolina, is by far the greatest 
orator ; but if you speak of solid information and sound judgment, 
Colonel Washington is unquestionably the greatest man on that 
floor." 

Massachusetts in Rebellion. — The public mind, in Boston and 
its vicinity, had been rendered excessively jealous and sensitive by 
the landing of artillery upon the Common, the planting of four 
large field-pieces on Boston Neck, the only entrance to the town 
by land. The country people were arming and disciplining them- 
selves in every direction, and collecting and depositing arms and 
ammunition in places where they would be at hand in case of 
emergency. 

The commissions were arrived for those civil officers appointed 
by the Crown under the new modifications of the charter : many, 



BEGINNINGS OF THE REVOLUTION. 143 

however, were afraid to accept of them. Those who did soon 
resigned, finding it impossible to withstand the odium of the peo- 
ple. The civil government throughout the province became ob- 
structed in all its operations. Gage on the ist of September 
issued writs for an election of an Assembly to meet at Salem in 
October ; seeing, however, the irritated state of the public mind, 
he now countermanded the same by proclamation. The people, 
disregarding the countermand, carried the election, and ninety of 
the new members thus elected met at the appointed time. They 
waited a whole day for the governor to attend, administer the 
oaths, and open the session ; but as he did not make his appear- 
ance, they voted themselves a provincial Congress, and chose for 
president of it John Hancock — a man of great wealth, and emi- 
nent from his social position. This self-constituted body adjourned 
to Concord, quietly assumed supreme authority, and issued a 
remonstrance to the governor, virtually calling him to account for 
his military operations in fortifying Boston Neck, and collecting 
warlike stores about him, thereby alarming the fears of the whole 
province, and menacing the lives and property of the Bostonians. 

The provincial Congress conducted its affairs with the order and 
system so formidable to General Gage. Having adopted a plan 
for organizing the militia, it had nominated general officers, two 
of whom, Artemas Ward and Seth Pomeroy, had accepted. The 
executive powers were vested in a committee of safety. This was 
to determine when the services of the militia were necessary ; was 
to call them forth ; to nominate their officers to the Congress ; to 
commission them, and direct the operations of the army. Under 
such auspices, the militia went on arming and disciplining itself 
in every direction. 

Arrangements had been made for keeping up an active corre- 
spondence between different parts of the country, and spreading 
an alarm in case of any threatening danger. Under the direction 
of the committee of safety, large quantities of military stores had 
been collected and deposited at Concord and at Worcester. 

Among other portentous signs, war-hawks began to appear above 
the horizon. Mrs. Gushing, wife of a member of Congress, writes 



144 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

to her husband, " Two of the greatest mihtary characters of the 
day are visiting this distressed town ; General Charles Lee, who 
has served in Poland, and Colonel Israel Putnam, whose bravery 
and character need no description." As these two men will take 
a prominent part in coming events, we pause to give a word or 
two concerning them. 

Israel Putnam was a soldier of native growth ; one of the mili- 
tary productions of the French war ; seasoned and proved in 
frontier campaigning. He had served at Louisburg, Fort Du- 
quesne, and Crown Point ; had signalized himself in Indian war- 
fare ; been captured by the savages, tied to a stake to be tortured 
and burnt, and had only been rescued by the interference, at the 
eleventh hour, of a French partisan of the Indians. Since the 
peace, he had returned to agricultural life, and was now a farmer 
at Pomfret, in Connecticut, where the scars of his wounds and the 
tales of his exploits rendered him a hero in popular estimation. 
The war spirit yet burned within him. He was now chairman of 
a committee of vigilance, and had come to Boston in discharge of 
his political and semi-belligerent functions. 

A Soldier of Fortune. — General Charles Lee was a military 
man of a different stamp. He was the son of a British officer, 
Lieutenant-colonel John Lee, of the dragoons, who married the 
daughter of Sir Henry Bunbury, and afterwards rose to be a 
general. Lee was born in 1731, and may almost be said to have 
been cradled in the army, for he received a commission when 
eleven years old. At the age of twenty-four, he commanded a 
company of grenadiers, and served in the French war in America, 
where he was brought into military companionship with Sir William 
Johnson's Mohawk warriors, whom he used to extol for their manly 
beauty, their dress, their graceful carriage and good breeding. In 
fact, he rendered himself so much of a favorite among them, that 
they adopted him into the clan of the Bear, giving him an Indian 
name, signifying " Boiling Water." At the battle of Ticonderoga, 
Lee was shot through the body, while leading his men against the 
French breastworks. He was present at the siege of Fort Niagara, 
and at the surrender of Montreal. In 1762, he bore a colonel's 



BEGINNINGS OF THE REVOLUTION. 145 

commission, and served under Brigadier-general Burgoyne in Por- 
tugal. The war over, he returned to England, bearing testimonials 
of bravery and good conduct from his commander-in-chief, and 
from the king of Portugal. 

Wielding the pen as well as the sword, Lee undertook to write 
on questions of colonial policy, relative to Pontiac's war, in which 
he took the opposition side. This lost him the favor of the min- 
istry, and with it all hope of further promotion. He now deter- 
mined to offer his services to Poland, supposed to be on the verge 
of a war. His military reputation secured him the favor of Ponia- 
towsky, recently elected king of Poland, with the name of Stanis- 
laus Augustus, who admitted him to his table, and made him one 
of his aides-de-camp. In 1769, he was raised to the rank of 
major-general in the Polish army, and left Warsaw to join the 
Russian force, which was advancing into Moldavia. He arrived 
in time to take part in a severe action between the Russians and 
Turks, in which the Cossacks and hussars were terribly cut up by 
the Turkish cavalry. Lee never returned to Poland, but for some 
time led a restless life about Europe — visiting Italy, Sicily, Malta, 
and the south of Spain ; troubled with attacks of rheumatism, 
gout, and the effects of a " Hungarian fever." He had become 
more and more cynical and irascible, and had more than one 
" affair of honor," in one of which he killed his antagonist. His 
splenetic feelings, as well as his political sentiments, were occa- 
sionally vented in severe attacks upon the ministry, full of irony 
and sarcasm. In the questions which had risen between England 
and her colonies, he had strongly advocated the cause of the 
latter ; and it was the feelings thus excited, and the recollections, 
perhaps, of his early campaigns, that had recently brought him to 
America. His caustic attacks upon the ministry; his conversa- 
tional powers and his poignant sallies, had gained him great repu- 
tation ; but his military renown rendered him especially interesting 
at the present juncture. A general, who had sen-ed in the famous 
campaigns of Europe, commanded Cossacks, fought with Turks, 
and been aide-de-camp to the king of Poland, was regarded as a 
prodigious acquisition to the patriot cause ! On the other hand, 



146 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

his visit to Boston was looked upon with uneasiness by the British 
officers, who knew his adventurous character. It was surmised 
with some truth that he was exciting a spirit of revolt, with a view 
to putting himself at its head. 

The semi-belligerent state of affairs in Massachusetts produced 
a general restlessness throughout the land. Military measures, 
hitherto confined to New England, extended to the middle and 
southern provinces, and the roll of the drum resounded through 
the villages. Virginia was among the first to buckle on its armor. 
It had long been a custom among its inhabitants to form them- 
selves into independent companies, equipped at their own expense, 
having their own peculiar uniform, and electing their own officers, 
though holding themselves subject to militia law. They had 
hitherto been self-disciplined ; but now they continually resorted 
to Washington for instruction and advice ; considering him the 
highest authority on military affairs. Mount Vernon, therefore, 
again assumed a military tone as in former days, when he took his 
first lessons in the art of war. Two occasional and important 
guests in this momentous crisis were General Charles Lee and 
Major Horatio Gates. The latter was the son of a captain in the 
British army. He had received a liberal education, and had 
served in the campaign of Braddock, and afterwards in the West 
Indies. Being dispatched to London with tidings of the victory 
at Martinico, he was rewarded by the appointment of major. His 
promotion did not equal his fancied deserts. He wanted some- 
thing more lucrative ; so he sold out on half-pay and became an 
applicant for some profitable post under the government, which 
he hoped to obtain through the influence of some friends in the 
aristocracy. Thus several years were passed, partly with his family 
in retirement, partly in London, paying court to patrons and men 
in power, until finding there was no likelihood of success, and 
having sold his commission and half-pay, he emigrated to Virginia 
in 1772, a disappointed man; purchased an estate in Berkeley 
County, beyond the Blue Ridge ; espoused the popular cause, and 
renewed his old campaigning acquaintance with Washington. He 
was now about forty-six years of age, of a florid complexion and 



BEGINNINGS OF THE REVOLUTION. 147 

goodly presence, though a httle inclined to corpulency ; social and 
insinuating in his manners, with a strong degree of self-approba- 
tion. A long course of solicitation, haunting public offices and 
ante-chambers, and " knocking about town," had taught him, it is 
said, how to wheedle and flatter, and accommodate himself to the 
humors of others, so as to be the boon companion of gentlemen, 
and " hail-fellow well met " with the vulgar. 

Lee, who was an old friend and former associate in arms, had 
recently been induced by him to purchase an estate in hi« neigh- 
borhood in Berkeley County, with a view to making it his abode, 
having a moderate competency, a claim to land on the Ohio, and 
the half-pay of a British colonel. Both of these officers, disap- 
pointed in the British service, looked forward, probably, to greater 
success in the patriot cause. Lee had been at Philadelphia since 
his visit to Boston, and had made himself acquainted with the 
leading members of Congress during the session. He was evi- 
dently cultivating an intimacy with every one likely to have influ- 
ence in the approaching struggle. 

To Washington the visits of these gentlemen were extremely 
welcome at this juncture, from their military knowledge and ex- 
perience, especially as much of it had been acquired in America, 
in the same kind of warfare in which he himself had mingled. 

It is doubtful whether the visits of Lee were as interesting to 
Mrs. Washington as to the general. He was whimsical, eccentric, 
and at times rude ; negligent also, and slovenly in person and 
attire ; for though he had occasionally associated with kings and 
princes, he had also campaigned with Mohawks and Cossacks, and 
seems to have relished their "good breeding." What was still 
more annoying in a well regulated mansion, he was always fol- 
lowed by a legion of dogs, which shared his affections with his 
horses, and took their seats by him when at table. " I must have 
some object to embrace," said he, misanthropically. " When I 
can be convinced that men are as worthy objects as dogs, I shall 
transfer my benevolence, and become as staunch a philanthropist 
as the canting Addison affected to be." 

In the month of March the second Virginia convention was 



148 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

held at Richmond. Washington attended as delegate from Fair- 
fax County. In this assembly, Patrick Henry, with his usual ardor 
and eloquence, advocated measures for arming and discipHning a 
militia force, and providing for the defence of the colony. " It is 
useless," said he, " to address further petitions to government, or 
to await the effect of those already addressed to the throne. The 
time for supplication is past ; the time for action is at hand. We 
must fight, Mr. Speaker," exclaimed he, emphatically ; " I repeat 
it, sir, we must fight ! An appeal to arms, and to the God of 
Hosts, is all that is left us ! " Washington joined him in the 
conviction, and was one of a committee that reported a plan for 
carrying those measures into effect. '' It is my full intention, if 
needful," writes he to his brother, ^'' to devote my life and fortune 
to the causey 

§ 4. Preliminary Campaigns of the Revolutionary War. 

Lexington. — While the spirit of revolt was daily gaining strength 
and determination in America, a strange infatuation reigned in the 
British councils. While the wisdom and eloquence of Chatham 
were exerted in vain in behalf of American rights, an empty brag- 
gadocio, elevated to a seat in Parliament, was able to captivate 
the attention of the members, and influence their votes by gross 
misrepresentations of the Americans and their cause. This was 
no other than Colonel Grant, the same shallow soldier who had 
been guilty of a foolhardy bravado before the walls of Fort Du- 
quesne, which brought slaughter and defeat upon his troops. He 
entertained Parliament with ludicrous stories of the cowardice of 
Americans. He had served with them, he said, and knew them 
well, and would venture to say they would never dare to face an 
English army. With five regiments, he could march through all 
America ! The councils of the arrogant and scornful prevailed ; 
and instead of Chatham's proposed bill, further measures of a 
stringent nature were adopted, ruinous to the trade and fisheries 
of New England. 

At length the bolt, so long suspended, fell ! The troops at 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 149 

Boston had been augmented to about four thousand men. Alarmed 
by the energetic measures of the whigs, General Gage now re- 
solved to surprise and destroy their magazine of military stores at 
Concord, about twenty miles from Boston. Preparations were 
made with great secrecy. On the i8th of April officers were sta- 
tioned on the roads leading from Boston, to prevent any intelli- 
gence of the expedition getting into the country. At night orders 
were issued by General Gage that no person should leave the 
town. About ten o'clock, from eight to nine hundred men, com- 
manded by Lieutenant-colonel Smith, embarked in boats at the 
foot of Boston Common, and crossed to Lechmere Point, in Cam- 
bridge, whence they were to march silendy to the place of desti- 
nation. 

The measures of General Gage had not been shrouded in all 
the secrecy he imagined. Dr. Joseph Warren, one of the commit- 
tee of safety, had observed the preparatory disposition of the boats 
and troops, and surmised some sinister intention. A design on 
the magazine at Concord was suspected, and the committee of 
safety ordered that the cannon collected there should be secreted, 
and the stores removed. On the night of the i8th. Dr. Warren 
sent off two messengers by different routes to give the alarm that 
the king's troops were actually sallying forth. In the meantime 
Colonel Smith set out on his nocturnal march by an unfrequented 
path across marshes, where at times the troops had to wade through 
water. He had proceeded but a few miles when alarm guns, and 
the clang of village bells, showed that the news of his approach 
was travelling before him. He now sent back to General Gage 
for a reinforcement, while Major Pitcairn was detached with six 
companies to press forward, and secure the bridges at Concord. 
Pitcairn advanced rapidly, capturing every one he met or over- 
took. By the time he entered the village of Lexingtgn, about 
seventy of the yeomanry, in military array, were mustered on the 
green near the church. Pitcairn halted his men within a short 
distance and ordered them to prime and load. The major, riding 
forward, waved his sword, and ordered the rebels, as he termed 
them, to disperse. The orders were disregarded. A scene of con- 



150 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

fusion ensued, with firing on both sides ; eight of the patriots were 
killed, and ten wounded, and the whole put to flight. Colonel 
Smith soon arrived with the residue of the detachment, and they 
all marched on towards Concord. About seven o'clock, they 
entered that village in two divisions by different roads. Concord 
is traversed by a river of the same name, having two bridges, the 
north and the south. The grenadiers took post in the centre of 
the town, while strong parties of light troops were detached to 
secure the bridges and destroy the military stores. Two hours 
were expended in the work of destruction without much success, 
so much of the stores having been removed or concealed. During 
all this time the yeomanry from the neighboring towns were hurry- 
ing in with such weapons as were at hand. About ten o'clock, a 
body of three hundred undertook to dislodge the British from the 
north bridge. As they approached, the latter fired upon them, 
kilHng two, and wounding a third. The patriots returned the fire 
with spirit and effect. The British retreated to the main body, 
the Americans pursuing them across the bridge. 

About noon Colonel Smith commenced his retrograde march 
for Boston. It was high time. His troops were jaded by the 
night march, and the morning's toils and skirmishings. Along the 
open road, they were now harassed incessantly by rustic marks- 
men, who took deliberate aim from behind trees, or over stone 
fences. Where the road passed through woods, the British found 
themselves between two fires, dealt by unseen foes, the minute 
men having posted themselves on each side among the bushes. 
It was in vain they threw out flankers, and endeavored to dislodge 
their assailants ; each pause gave time for other pursuers to come 
within reach, and open attacks from different quarters. For several 
miles they urged their way along woody defiles, or roads skirted 
with fences and stone walls, the retreat growing more and more 
disastrous. Before reaching Lexington, Colonel Smith received a 
severe wound in the leg, and the situation of the retreating troops 
was becoming extremely critical, when, about two o'clock, they 
were met by Lord Percy, with a brigade of one thousand men, and 
two field-pieces. His lordship had been detached from Boston 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 151 

about nine o'clock by General Gage, in compliance with Colonel 
Smith's urgent call for a reinforcement, and had marched gayly 
through Roxbury to the tune of " Yankee Doodle," in derision of 
the " rebels." He now found the latter a more formidable foe 
than he had anticipated. Opening his brigade to the right and 
left, he received the retreating troops into a hollow square ; where, 
fainting and exhausted, they threw themselves on the ground to 
rest. His lordship showed no disposition to advance upon their 
assailants, but contented himself with keeping them at bay with 
his field-pieces, which opened a vigorous fire from an eminence. 

Hitherto the provincials, being hasty levies, without a leader, 
had acted from individual impulse, without much concert ; but 
now General Heath was upon the ground. He was one of those 
authorized to take command when the minute men should be 
called out. Doctor Warren, also, arrived on horseback, having 
spurred from Boston on receiving news of the skirmishing. In 
the subsequent part of the day, he was one of the most active and 
efficient men in the field. Lord Percy, having allowed the troops 
a short interval for repose and refreshment, continued the retreat 
toward Boston. As soon as he got under march, the galling as- 
sault by the pursuing yeomanry was recommenced in flank and 
rear. There was occasional sharp skirmishing, with bloodshed on 
both sides, but in general a dogged pursuit, where the retreating 
troops were galled at every step. Their march became more and 
more impeded by the number of their wounded. Lord Percy 
narrowly escaped death from a musket-ball, which struck off a 
button of his waistcoat. One of his officers remained behind, 
wounded in West Cambridge. His ammunition was failing as he 
approached Charlestown. The provincials pressed upon him in 
the rear, others were advancing from Roxbury, Dorchester, and 
Milton ; Colonel Pickering, with the Essex militia, seven hundred 
strong, was at hand ; there was danger of being intercepted in the 
fetreat to Charlestown. The sharpest firing of the provincials was 
near Prospect Hill, as the harassed enemy hurried along the 
Charlestown road, eager to reach the Neck, and get under cover 
of their ships. The pursuit terminated a Httle after sunset, at 



152 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Charlestown Common, where General Heath brought the minute 
men to a halt. Within half an hour more, a powerful body of 
men, from Marblehead and Salem, came up to join in the chase. 
" If the retreat," writes Washington, " had not been as precipitate 
as it was, — and God knows it could not well have been more so, 
— the ministerial troops must have surrendered, or been totally 
cut off." 

In this memorable affair, the British loss was two hundred and 
seventy-three killed, wounded, and missing. xA^mong the slain were 
eighteen officers. The loss of the Americans was ninety-three. 
The cry of blood from the field of Lexington went through the 
land. Bodies of militia, and parties of volunteers from New Hamp- 
shire, Rhode Island, and Connecticut, hastened to join the minute 
men of Massachusetts in forming a camp in the neighborhood of 
Boston. With the troops of Connecticut, came Israel Putnam, 
having recently raised a regiment in that province, and received 
from its Assembly the commission of brigadier-general. The com- 
mand of the camp was given to General Artemas Ward, already 
mentioned. He was a native of Shrewsbury, in Massachusetts, and 
a veteran of the Seven Years' War — having served as lieutenant- 
colonel under Abercrombie. 

Ticonderoga. — As affairs were now drawing to a crisis, and war 
was considered inevitable, some bold spirits in Connecticut con- 
ceived a project for surprising the old forts Ticonderoga and 
Crown Point, already famous in the French war. Their situation 
on Lake Champlain gave them the command of the main route to 
Canada; they were feebly garrisoned and abundantly furnished 
with artillery and military stores, so much needed by the patriot 
army. This scheme was set on foot in the provincial Legislature 
of Connecticut, then in session. It was not openly sanctioned by 
that body, but secretly favored, and money lent from the treasury 
to those engaged in it. Sixteen men were thus enlisted in Connec- 
ticut, a greater number in Massachusetts^ but the greatest accession oT 
force was from the country forming the present State of Vermont. 
It had long been a disputed territory, claimed by New York and 
New Hampshire. George II. had decided in favor of New York ; 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 153 

but the Governor of New Hampshire had made grants of between 
one and two hundred townships in it, whence it had acquired the 
name of the New Hampshire Grants. The settlers on those grants 
resisted the attempts of New York to eject them, and formed 
themselves into an association, called "The Green Mountain 
Boys." Resolute, strong-handed fellows they were, with Ethan 
Allen at their head, a native of Connecticut, but brought up among 
the Green Mountains. He and his lieutenant, Seth Warner, were 
outlawed by the Legislature of New York, and rewards offered for 
their apprehension. They and their associates armed themselves, 
set New York at defiance, and swore they would be the death of 
any one who should attempt their arrest. Thus Ethan Allen was 
becoming a kind of Robin Hood among the mountains, when at 
the present crisis he at once stepped forward and volunteered with 
his Green Mountain Boys to serve in the popular cause. He was 
well fitted for the enterprise in question, by his experience as a 
frontier champion, his robustness of mind and body, and his fear- 
less spirit. He had a kind of rough eloquence, also, that was very 
effective with his followers. " His style," says one, who knew him 
personally, " was a singular compound of local barbarisms. Scrip- 
tural phrases, and oriental wildness ; and though unclassic, and 
sometimes ungrammatical, was highly animated and forcible." 
Washington, in one of his letters, says there was " an original some- 
thing in him which commanded admiration." 

Thus reinforced, the party, now two hundred and seventy strong, 
pushed forward to Castleton, a place within a few miles of the head 
of Lake Champlain. Here a counsel of war was held on the 2d of 
May, and here at this juncture, another adventurous spirit arrived. 
This was Benedict Arnold, since so sadly renowned. He, too, had 
conceived the project of surprising Ticonderoga and Crown Point, 
and had proposed the scheme to the Massachusetts committee of 
safety. They had given him a colonel's commission, authorized 
him to raise a force in western Massachusetts, and furnished him 
with money and means. Arnold had enlisted but a few officers 
and men when he heard of the expedition from Connecticut being 
on the march. He instantly hurried on with one attendant to 



154 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

overtake it, and laid claim to the supreme command. His claims 
were disregarded by the Green Mountain Boys, who would follow 
no leader but Ethan Allen. As they formed the majority of the 
party, Arnold was fain to acquiesce, and serve as a volunteer. 

The party arrived at Shoreham, opposite Ticonderoga, on the 
night of the 9th of May. There were but few boats at hand, with 
which the transportation was commenced. It was slow work ; the 
night wore away ; day was about to break, and but eighty-three 
men, with Allen and Arnold, had crossed. Should they wait for 
the residue, day would dawn, the garrison wake, and their enter- 
prise might fail. Allen drew up his men, addressed them in his 
own emphatic style, and announced his intention to make a dash 
without waiting for more force. They mounted the hill briskly, 
but in silence, guided by a boy from the neighborhood. The day 
dawned as Allen arrived at a sally-port. A sentry pulled trigger 
on him, but his piece missed fire. He retreated through a covered 
way. Allen and his men followed, reached the quarters of the 
commandant, thundered at the door, and demanded the surrender 
of the fort. The commandant appearing at his door half-dressed, 
gazed at Allen in bewildered astonishment. '' By whose authority 
do you act? " exclaimed he. " In the name of the great Jehovah, 
and the Continental Congress ! " replied Allen, with a flourish of 
his sword. There was no disputing the point. The fortress was 
surrendered, v/ith a great supply of military and naval stores, so 
important in the present crisis. Seth Warner, who had brought 
over the residue of the party from Shoreham, was now sent with a 
detachment against Crown Point, which surrendered on the 12th 
of May, without firing a gun. Here were taken upward of a hun- 
dred cannon. 

Thus a partisan band had, almost without the loss of a man, 
won for the patriots the command of Lakes George and Cham- 
plain, and thrown open the great highway to Canada. 

Washington Commander-in-chief. — The second General Con- 
gress assembled at Philadelphia on ths loth of May. Peyton 
Randolph was again elected as president ; but being obliged to 
return, and occupy his place as Speaker of the Virginia iVssembly, 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 155 

John Hancock of Massachusetts was elevated to the chair. A 
Hngering feeUng of attachment to the mother country, strugghng 
with the growing spirit of self-government, was manifested in the 
proceedings of this remarkable body. Many of those most active 
in vindicating colonial rights, and Washington among the number, 
still indulged the hope of an eventual reconciliation, while few as 
yet entertained the idea of complete independence. A second 
" humble and dutiful " petition to the king was moved, but Con- 
gress, in face of it, went on to assume and exercise the powers of 
a sovereign authority. 

They ordered the enlistment of troops, the construction of forts 
in various parts of the colonies, the provision of arms, ammunition, 
and military stores ; while to defray the expense of these, and other 
measures, avowedly of self-defence, they authorized the emission 
of notes to the amount of three millions of dollars, bearing the in- 
scription of "The United Colonies " ; the faith of the confederacy 
being pledged for their redemption. A retaliating decree was 
passed, prohibiting all supplies of provisions to the British fisheries ; 
and another, declaring the province of Massachusetts Bay absolved 
from its compact with the Crown, by the violation of its charter, 
and recommending it to form an internal government for itself. 

The situation of the New England army, actually besieging Bos- 
ton, became an early and absorbing consideration. It was without 
munitions of war, without arms, clothing, or pay ; unless sanctioned 
and assisted by Congress, there was danger of its dissolution. 
If dissolved, what would there be to prevent the British from sally- 
ing out of Boston, and spreading desolation throughout the coun- 
try? All this was the subject of much discussion. The disposition 
to uphold the army was general ; but the difficult question was, 
who should be commander-in-chief? There was a southern party 
which could not brook the idea of a New England army, com- 
manded by a New England general. On the other hand, Mr. 
Hancock had an ambition to be appointed commander-in-chief. 

Charles Lee also was at that time in Philadelphia. The active 
interest he had manifested in the cause was well known, and the 
public had an extravagant idea of his military qualifications. He 



156 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

was of foreign birth, however, and it was deemed improper to 
confide the supreme command to any but a native-born American. 

The opinion evidently inclined in favor of Washington j it was 
John Adams who brought the members of Congress to a decision. 
Rising in his place, he moved that Congress should adopt the 
army at Cambridge, and appoint a general. Though this was not 
the time to nominate the person, "yet," adds he, " as I had reason 
to believe this was a point of some difficulty, I had no hesitation 
to declare, that I had but one gentleman in my mind for that 
important command, and that was a gentleman from Virginia, who 
was among us and very well known to all of us ; a gentleman, 
whose skill and experience as an officer, whose independent 
fortune, great talents, and excellent universal character would 
command the approbation of all America, and unite the cordial 
exertions of all the colonies better than any other person in the 
Union. Mr. Washington, who happened to sit near the door, as 
soon as he heard me allude to him, from his usual modesty, darted 
into the library-room. Mr. Hancock, who was our president, 
which gave me an opportunity to observe his countenance, while 
I was speaking on the state of the colonies, the army at Cam- 
bridge, and the enemy, heard me with visible pleasure ; but when 
I came to describe Washington for the commander, I never 
remarked a more sudden and striking change of countenance. 
Mortification and resentment were expressed as forcibly as his face 
could exhibit them." 

The subject was postponed to a future day. On the 15th of 
June, the army was regularly adopted by Congress. Many still 
clung to the idea, that in all these proceedings they were merely 
opposing the measures of the ministry and not the authority of the 
crown, and thus the army before Boston was designated as the 
Continental Army, in contradistinction to that under General Gage, 
which was called the Ministerial Army. In this stage of the busi- 
ness, Mr. Johnson of Maryland rose, and nominated Washington 
for the station of commander-in-chief. The election was by bal- 
lot, and was unanimous. 

He declared, when he accepted the mighty trust, that he would 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 157 

lay before Congress an exact account of his expenses, and would 
not accept a shilling of pay. General Ward was elected the second 
in command, and Lee the third. The other two major-generals were 
Philip Schuyler of New York, and Israel Putnam of Connecticut. 
Eight brigadier-generals were likewise appointed ; Seth Pomeroy, 
Richard Montgomery, David Wooster, William Heath, Joseph 
Spencer, John Thomas, John Sullivan, and Nathaniel Greene. 
At Washington's express request, his old friend. Major Horatio 
Gates, then absent at his estate in Virginia, was appointed adju- 
tant-general, with the rank of brigadier. Adams, according to his 
own account, was extremely loth to admit Lee or Gates into the 
American service, " but," adds he, " considering the earnest desire 
of General Washington to have the assistance of those officers, and 
the reputation they would give to our arms in Europe, and espe- 
cially with the ministerial generals and army in Boston, I could 
not withhold my vote from either." 

The reader will possibly call these circumstances to mind when, 
on a future page, he finds how Lee and Gates requited the friend- 
ship to which chiefly they owed their appointments. 

Bunker Hill. — Meanwhile events had been drawing to a crisis 
in the excited region about Boston. The provincial troops which 
blockaded the town prevented suppHes by land, the neighboring 
country refused to furnish them by water, and Boston began to 
experience the privations of a besieged city. On the 5 th of May 
arrived ships of war and transports from England, bringing large 
reinforcements, under Generals Howe, Burgoyne, and Clinton, 
commanders of high reputation. As the ships entered the harbor, 
and the " rebel camp " was pointed out, — ten thousand yeomanry 
beleaguering a town garrisoned by five thousand regulars, — Bur- 
goyne could not restrain a burst of surprise and scorn. " What ! " 
cried he, " ten thousand peasants keep five thousand king's troops 
shut up ! Well, let us get in, and we'll soon find elbow-room." 

Inspirited by these reinforcements, General Gage determined 
to take the field. Previously, however, he issued a proclamation 
(i 2th June), putting the province under martial law, threatening 
to treat as rebels and traitors all malcontents who should continue 



158 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

under arms, together with their aiders and abettors ; but offering 
pardon to all who should lay down their arms and return to their 
allegiance. From this proffered amnesty, however, John Hancock 
and Samuel Adams were especially excepted ; their offences being 
pronounced "too flagitious not to meet with condign punish- 
ment." 

This proclamation only ser\^ed to put the patriots on the alert 
against such measures as might be expected to follow. The besieg- 
ing force amounted to about fifteen thousand men distributed at 
various points. Its character and organization were peculiar. It 
could not be called a national army, for, as yet, there was no nation 
to own it j it was, in fact, a fortuitous assemblage of four distinct 
bodies of troops, belonging to different provinces, and each having 
a leader of its own election. About ten thousand belonged to 
Massachusetts, and were under the command of General Artemas 
Ward, whose headquarters were at Cambridge. Another body of 
troops, under Colonel John Stark, came from New Hampshire. 
Rhode Island furnished a third, under the command of General 
Nathaniel Greene. A fourth was from Connecticut, under the 
veteran Putnam. 

These bodies of troops, being from different colonies, were inde- 
pendent of each other. Those from New Hampshire were in- 
structed to obey General Ward as commander-in-chief; with the 
rest, it was a voluntary act, rendered in consideration of his being 
military chief of Massachusetts, the province which, as allies, they 
came to defend. There was, in fact, but little organization in the 
army. Nothing kept it together, and gave it unity of action, but 
a common feeling of exasperated patriotism. 

The troops knew but httle of military discipline. Almost all 
were familiar with the use of fire-arms in hunting and fowling; 
many had served in frontier campaigns against the French, and in 
" bush-fighting " with the Indians. There was a regiment of artil- 
lery, partly organized by Colonel Gridley, a skilful engineer, and 
furnished with nine field-pieces ; but the greater part of the troops 
were without military dress or accoutrements ; most of them were 
hasty levies of yeomanry, some of whom had seized their rifles and 




To face page 159, 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 159 

fowling-pieces, and turned out in their working clothes and home- 
spun country garbs. It was an army of volunteers, subordinate 
through inclination and respect to officers of their own choice, and 
depending for sustenance on supplies sent from their several towns. 

Such was the army spread over an extent of ten or twelve miles, 
and keeping watch upon the town of Boston, containing at that 
time a population of seventeen thousand souls, and garrisoned with 
more than ten thousand British troops, disciplined and experienced 
in the wars of Europe. 

We have already mentioned the peninsula of Charlestown, which 
lies opposite to the north side of Boston. The heights, which 
swell up in rear of the village, overlook the town and shipping. 

It was determined to seize and fortify these heights on the night 
of Friday, the i6th of June. A little before sunset the troops, 
about twelve hundred in all, assembled on the common, in front 
of General Ward's quarters. They came provided with packs, 
blankets, and provisions for four-and-twenty hours, but ignorant 
of the object of the expedition. Being all paraded, prayers were 
offered up by the reverend President Langdon of Harv^ard College, 
after which they all set forward on their silent march. Colonel 
William Prescott, a veteran of the French war, had been chosen by 
General Ward to conduct the enterprise. His written orders were 
to fortify Bunker Hill, and defend the works until he should be 
relieved. ^ It was understood that reinforcements and refreshments 
would be sent to the fatigue party in the morning. The detach- 
ment left Cambridge about nine o'clock, Colonel Prescott taking 
the lead, preceded by two sergeants with dark lanterns. At 
Charlestown Neck they were joined by General Putnam ; and here 
were the wagons laden with entrenching tools, which first gave the 
men an indication of the enterprise. 

Charlestown Neck is a narrow isthmus, connecting the peninsula 
with the main land ; having the Mystic river, about half a mile 
wide, on the north, and a large embayment of Charles river on 
the south or right side. It was now necessary to proceed with the 
utmost caution, for they were coming on ground over which 
the British kept jealous watch. They had erected a battery at 



160 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Boston on Copp's Hill, immediately opposite to Charlestown. 
Five of their vessels of war were stationed so as to bear upon the 
peninsula from different directions, and the guns of one of them 
swept the isthmus, or narrow neck just mentioned. Across this 
isthmus, Colonel Prescott conducted the detachment undiscovered, 
and up the ascent of Bunker Hill. This commences at the Neck, 
and slopes up for about three hundred yards to its summit, which 
is about one hundred and twelve feet high. It then declines 
toward the south, and is connected by a ridge with Breed's Hill, 
about sixty or seventy feet high. The crests of the two hills are 
about seven hundred yards apart. 

On attaining the heights, a question rose which of the two they 
should proceed to fortify. Bunker Hill was specified in the writ- 
ten orders given to Colonel Prescott by General Ward, but Breed's 
Hill was nearer to Boston, and had a better command of the 
town and shipping. It was therefore determined on. Gridley 
marked out the lines for the fortifications ; the men stacked their 
guns ; threw off their packs ; seized their trenching tools, and set 
to work with great spirit ; but so much time had been wasted in 
discussion, that it was midnight before they struck the first spade 
into the ground. 

So spiritedly, though silently, was the labor carried on, that by 
morning a strong redoubt was thrown up as a main work, flanked 
on the left by a breastwork, partly cannon-proof, extending down 
the crest of Breed's Hill to a piece of marshy ground called the 
Slough. To support the right of the redoubt, some troops were 
thrown into the village of Charlestown, at the southern foot of the 
hill. 

At dawn of day, the Americans at work were espied by the sail- 
ors on board of the ships of war, and the alarm was given. The 
captain of the Lively, the nearest ship, without waiting for orders, 
opened a fire upon the hill. The other ships and a floating battery 
followed his example. Their shot did no mischief to the works, 
but the cannonading roused the town of Boston. Gage could 
scarcely believe his eyes when he beheld on the opposite hill a 
fortification full of men, which had spnmg up in the course of the 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 161 

night. He called a council of war. The Americans evidently 
intended to cannonade Boston from this hill. It was unanimously 
resolved to dislodge them. How was this to be done ? A major- 
ity advised that a force should be landed on Charlestown Neck, 
under the protection of their batteries, so as to attack the Ameri- 
cans in rear, and cut off their retreat. Gage objected that it would 
place his troops between two armies ; one at Cambridge, superior 
in numbers, the other on the heights, strongly fortified. He was 
for landing in front of the works, and pushing directly up the hill ; 
a plan adopted through a confidence that raw militia would never 
stand their ground against the assault of veteran troops — another 
instance of undervaluing the American spirit, which was to cost the 
enemy a lamentable loss of life. 

The sound of drum and trumpet, the clatter of hoofs, the rattling 
of gun-carriages, and all the other military din and bustle in the 
streets of Boston, soon apprised the Americans on their rudely for- 
tified height of an impending attack. They were ill fitted to with- 
stand it, being jaded by the night's labor, and want of sleep ; 
hungry and thirsty, having brought but scanty supplies, and 
oppressed by the heat of the weather. Prescott sent repeated 
messages to General Ward, asking reinforcements and provisions. 
Putnam seconded the request in person, urging the exigencies of 
the case. Ward hesitated. He feared to weaken his main body 
at Cambridge, as his mihtary stores were deposited there, and it 
might have to sustain the principal attack. At length, having taken 
advice of the council of safety, he issued orders for Colonel Stark, 
then at Medford, to march to the relief of Prescott with his New 
Hampshire troops. The orders reached Medford about 1 1 o'clock. 
Ammunition was distributed in all haste ; two flints, a gill of powder, 
and fifteen balls to each man. The balls had to be suited to the 
different calibres of the guns ; the powder to be carried in powder- 
horns or loose in the pocket, for there were no cartridges prepared. 
It was the rude turn-out of yeoman soldiery destitute of regular 
accoutrements. 

Meanwhile, the Americans on Breed's Hill continued strengthen- 
ing their position until about 1 1 o'clock^ when they ceased to work, 



162 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

piled their entrenching tools in the rear, and looked out anxiously 
for the anticipated reinforcements and supplies. A large part of 
the tools were carried to Bunker Hill, and a breastwork com- 
menced by order of General Putnam. The importance of such a 
work was afterwards made apparent. 

About noon the Americans descried twenty- eight barges crossing 
from Boston. They contained a large detachment of grenadiers 
and light infantry, commanded by General Howe. They made a 
splendid and formidable appearance with their scarlet uniforms, 
and the sun flashing upon muskets and bayonets and brass field- 
pieces. A heavy fire from the ships and batteries covered their 
advance ; but no attempt was made to oppose them, and they 
landed about one o'clock at Moulton's Point, a Httle to the north 
of Breed's Hill. Here General Howe made a pause, while the 
Americans took advantage of the delay to strengthen their position. 
The breastwork on the left of the redoubt extended to what was 
called the Slough, but beyond this, the ridge of the hill and the 
slope toward Mystic river were undefended, leaving a pass by 
which the enemy might turn the left flank of the position and seize 
upon Bunker Hifl. Putnam ordered Captain Knowlton to cover 
this pass with his Connecticut troops. A novel kind of rampart 
was suggested by the rustic general. About six hundred feet in 
the rear of the redoubt, and about one hundred feet to the left of 
the breastwork, was a post-and-rail fence, set in a low foot-wall of 
stone, and extending down to Mystic river. The posts and rails 
of another fence were hastily pulled up, and set a few feet in 
behind this, and the intermediate space was filled up with new- 
mown hay from the adjacent meadows. This double fence proved 
an important protection to the redoubt, although there stifl 
remained an unprotected interval of about seven hundred feet. 

While Knowlton and his men were putting up this fence, Put- 
nam proceeded with other troops to throw up the work on Bunker 
Hill. By this time the veteran Stark made his appearance with 
the New Hampshire troops, five hundred strong. Putnam de- 
tained some of Stark's men to aid in throwing up the work on 
Bunker Hill; and directed him to reinforce Knowlton with the 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. ' 163 



rest. About two o'clock, Warren arrived on the heights. He 
had recently been elected a major-general, but had not received 
his commission ; he was cheered by the troops as he entered the 
redoubt, and Colonel Prescott tendered him the command. He 
declined. *' I have come to serve only as a volunteer, and shall 
be happy to learn from a soldier of your experience." 

The British now prepared for a general assault. The left wing, 
commanded by General Pigott, was to mount the hill and force the 
redoubt, while General Howe, with the right wing, was to push on 
between the fort and Mystic river, turn the left flank of the Amer- 
icans and cut off their retreat. 

General Pigott, accordingly, advanced up the hill under cover of 
a fire from field-pieces and howitzers planted on a small height 
near the landing-place on Moulton's Point. His troops com- 
menced a discharge of musketry while yet at a long distance from 
the redoubt. The Americans within the works, obedient to strict 
command, retained their fire until the enemy were within thirty or 
forty paces, when they opened upon them with a tremendous 
volley. Being all marksmen, accustomed to take deliberate aim, 
the slaughter was immense, and especially fatal to officers. The 
assailants fell back in some confusion ; but, rallied on by their 
officers, advanced within pistol shot. Another volley, more effec- 
tive than the first, made them again recoil. To add to their con- 
fusion, they were galled by a flanking fire from the handful of 
l)rovincials posted in Charlestown. Shocked at the carnage, and 
seeing the confusion of his troops. General Pigott gave the word 
for retreat. 

In the meantime, Howe advanced along Mystic river toward 
the fence where Stark and Knowlton were stationed, thinking to 
carry this slight breastwork with ease, and so get in the rear of the 
fortress. His artillery proved of little avail, being stopped by a 
swampy piece of ground, while his columns suffered from two or 
three field-pieces with which Putnam had fortified the fence. 
When the British arrived within thirty paces a sheeted fire opened 
upon them from rifles, muskets, and fowling-pieces, all levelled with 
deadly aim. The carnage, as in the other instance, was horrible. 



164 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The British were thrown into confusion and fell back ; some even 
retreated to the boats. 

After a considerable pause they again ascended the hill to storm 
the redoubt. Charlestown which had annoyed them by a flanking 
fire, was in flames, by shells thrown from the ships ; the crash of 
burning buildings and the dense volumes of smoke obscured the 
summer sun. The American troops reserved their fire, as before, 
until the enemy was close at hand, when they again poured forth 
repeated volleys with the fatal aim of sharpshooters. The British 
stood the first shock, and continued to advance ; but the incessant 
stream of fire staggered them. Their officers remonstrated, threat- 
ened, and even attempted to goad them on with their swords, but 
the havoc was too deadly ; whole ranks were mowed down ; many 
of the officers were either slain or wounded, and among them 
several of the staff of General Howe. The troops again gave way 
and retreated down the hill. 

All this passed under the eye of thousands of spectators of both 
sexes and all ages, watching from afar every turn of a battle in 
which the lives of those most dear to them were at hazard. The 
British soldiery in Boston gazed with astonishment at the resolute 
and protracted stand of raw militia whom they had been taught to 
despise, and at the havoc made among their own veteran troops. 
Every convoy of wounded brought over to the town increased 
their consternation ; and General Clinton, who had watched the 
action from Copp's Hill, embarking in a boat, hurried over as a 
volunteer, taking with him reinforcements. 

A third attack was now determined on, though some of Howe's 
officers remonstrated, declaring it would be downright butchery. 
A different plan was adopted. General Howe made a feint of at- 
tacking the fortified fence ; but, while a part of his force was thus 
engaged, the rest brought some of the field-pieces to enfilade the 
breastwork on the left of the redoubt. A raking fire soon drove 
the Americans out of this exposed place into the enclosure. The 
troops were now led on to assail the works. The Americans again 
reserved their fire until their assailants were close at hand, and 
then made a murderous volley, by which several officers were laid 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 165 

low, and Howe himself was wounded in the foot. The Americans, 
however, had fired their last round, their ammunition was ex- 
hausted ; and now succeeded a desperate and deadly struggle, 
hand to hand, with bayonets, stones, and the stocks of their 
muskets. At length, as the British continued to pour in, Prescott 
gave the order to retreat. His men had to cut their way through 
two divisions of the enemy who were getting in rear of the redoubt, 
and they received a destructive volley from those who had formed 
on the captured works. By that volley fell the patriot Warren, 
who had distinguished himself throughout the action. He was 
among the last to leave the redoubt, and had scarce done so when 
he was shot through the head with a musket-ball, and fell dead on 
the spot. 

At the rail fence, the resistance was kept up after the troops in 
the redoubt had given way, and until Prescott had left the hill ; 
thus defeating Howe's design of cutting off the retreat of the main 
body. Having effected their purpose, the brave associates at the 
fence abandoned their weak outpost, retiring slowly, and disputing 
the ground inch by inch, with a regularity remarkable in troops 
many of whom had never before been in action. 

The main retreat was across Bunker Hill where Putnam had 
endeavored to throw up a breastwork. It was impossible, how- 
ever, to bring the troops to a stand. They continued on down 
the hill to the Neck and across it to Somerville, exposed to a rak- 
ing fire from the ships and batteries, and only protected by a single 
piece of ordnance. The British were too exhausted to pursue 
them ; they contented themselves with taking possession of Bun- 
ker Hill. 

According to their own returns, their killed and wounded, out 
of a detachment of three thousand men, amounted to one thou- 
sand and fifty-four, and a large proportion of them officers. The 
loss of the Americans did not exceed four hundred and fifty. 

To the latter this defeat had the effect of a triumph. It gave 
them confidence in themselves and consequence in the eyes of 
their enemies. They had proved to themselves and to others that 
they could measure weapons with the disciplined soldiers of Europe, 
and inflict the most harm in the conflict. 



166 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Washington at Cambridge. — General Washington set out from 
Philadelphia for Boston on horseback on the 21st of June, having 
for military companions Major-generals Lee and Schuyler, and 
being accompanied for a distance by several private friends. 

General Schuyler was a man eminently calculated to sympathize 
with Washington in all his patriotic views and feelings, and became 
one of his most faithful coadjutors. Sprung from one of the earli- 
est and most respectable Dutch families which colonized New 
York, he had received a good education ; applied himself at an 
early age to the exact sciences, and become versed in finance, 
military engineering, and political economy. When twenty-two 
years of age he commanded a company of New York levies under 
Sir William Johnson, which gave him an early opportunity of be- 
coming acquainted with the Indian tribes, their country, and their 
policy. In 1758 he was in Abercrombie's expedition against 
Ticonderoga. Since the close of the French war he had served 
his country in various civil stations, and been one of the most 
zealous and eloquent vindicators of colonial rights. 

The journey may be said to have been a continual council of 
war between Washington and the two generals. The contrast in 
character of the two latter made them regard questions from dif- 
ferent points of view. Schuyler, a warm-hearted patriot, with 
everything staked on the cause ; Lee, a soldier of fortune, indif- 
ferent to the ties of home and country, drawing his sword without 
enthusiasm ; more through resentment against a government which 
had disappointed him, than zeal for liberty or for colonial rights. 
One of the most frequent subjects of conversation was the province 
of New York. Its position rendered it the great link of the con- 
federacy ; what measures were necessary for its defence, and most 
calculated to secure its adherence to the cause? A lingering 
attachment to the Crown, kept up by the influence of British mer- 
chants, and military and civil functionaries in royal pay, had ren- 
dered it slow in coming into the colonial compact. 

The population of New York was more varied in its elements 
than that of almost any other of the provinces, and had to be 
cautiously studied. The descendants of the old Dutch and Hu- 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 167 

guenot families, the earliest settlers, were still among the soundest 
and best of the population. They inherited the love of liberty, civil 
and religious, of their forefathers, and were those who stood foremost 
in the present struggle for popular rights. Many of the more modern 
families, dating from the downfall of the Dutch government in 
1664, were English and Scotch, and among these were many loyal 
adherents to the Crown. There was a power, too, within the inte- 
rior of the province, which was an object of much solicitude. 
This was the " Johnson Family." We have already had occasion 
to speak of Sir William Johnson, His Majesty's general agent for 
Indian affairs : of his great wealth, and his almost sovereign sway 
over the Six Nations. He had originally received that appoint- 
ment through the influence "of the Schuyler family, and both 
Schuyler and Lee, when young men, had campaigned with him. 
Sir William naturally favored the government which had enriched 
and honored him, but he had viewed with deep concern the acts 
of Parliament which were goading the colonists to armed resistance. 
In the height of his solicitude, he received dispatches ordering 
him, in case of hostilities, to enlist the Indians in the cause of gov- 
ernment. To the agitation of feelings produced by these orders 
many have attributed a stroke of apoplexy, of which he died, on 
the nth of July, 1774, about a year before the time of which we 
are treating. 

His son and heir. Sir John Johnson, and his sons-in-law, Colonel 
Guy Johnson and Colonel Claus, felt none of the reluctance of 
Sir William to use harsh measures in support of royalty. They 
lived in a rude feudal style in stone mansions capable of defence, 
situated on the Mohawk river and in its vicinity ; they had many 
Scottish Highlanders for tenants ; and among their adherents were 
violent men, such as the Butlers of Tryon County, and Brant, the 
famous Mohawk sachem. They had gone about with armed re- 
tainers, overawing and breaking up patriotic assemblages. Recent 
accounts stated that Sir John was fortifying the old family hall at 
Johnstown with swivels, and had a hundred and fifty Highlanders 
quartered in and about it, all armed and ready to obey his orders. 

Colonel Guy Johnson had fortified his stone mansion on the 



168 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Mohawk, called Guy's Park, and assembled there his adherents, to 
the number of five hundred. He held a great Indian council 
there likewise, in which the chiefs of the Six Nations recalled 
the friendship of the late Sir William, and avowed their determina- 
tion to stand by and defend every branch of his family. As yet it 
was uncertain whether Colonel Guy really intended to take an 
open part in the appeal to arms. Should he do so, he would carry 
with him a great force of the native tribes, and might almost 
domineer over the frontier. Tryon, the governor of New York, 
was a Tory, and his talents and address gave him great influence 
over an important part of the community. Should he and the 
Johnsons co-operate, the one controlling the bay and harbor of 
New York and the waters of the iTudson by means of ships and 
land forces ; the others overrunning the valley of the Mohawk and 
the regions beyond Albany with savage hordes, this great central 
province might be wrested from the confederacy, and all inter- 
course broken off between the eastern and southern colonies. 
. All these circumstances rendered the command of New York a 
post of especial importance, and determined Washington to confide 
it to General Schuyler. He was peculiarly fitted for it by his mili- 
tary talents, his intimate knowledge of the province and its con- 
cerns, and his experience in Indian affairs. 

At New York, Washington learned the details of the battle of 
Bunker Hill ; they quickened his impatience to arrive at the camp. 
The provincial Congress of Massachusetts, then in session at 
Watertown, sent on a deputation which met him at Springfield, 
and provided escorts and accommodations for him along the 
road. Thus honorably attended from town to town, he arrived at 
Watertown on the 2d of July, and presently proceeded to the head- 
quarters provided for him at Cambridge, three miles distant. As 
he entered the confines of the camp, the shouts of the multitude 
and the thundering of artillery gave note to the enemy belea- 
guered in Boston of his arrival. 

On the next morning, the 3d of July, Washington took formal 
command of the army. It was drawn up on the common about 
half a mile from head-quarters, A multitude had assembled there, 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 169 

for as yet military spectacles were novelties, and the camp was full 
of visitors who had relatives among the yeoman soldiery. An 
ancient elm is still pointed out, under which Washington, as he 
arrived from head-quarters accompanied by General Lee and a 
numerous suite, wheeled his horse, and drew his sword as com- 
mander-in-chief of the armies. Accompanied by the soldier of 
fortune, on whose military judgment he placed too much reliance, 
Washington visited the different American posts, and rode to the 
heights, commanding views over Boston and its environs, being 
anxious to make himself acquainted with the strength and relative 
position of both armies : and here we will give a few particulars 
concerning the distinguished commanders with whom he was 
brought immediately in competition. 

The first here alluded to was the Honorable William Howe, next 
in command to Gage. He was a man of fine presence, six feet 
high, and of graceful deportment. His affibility of manner and 
generous disposition made him popular with both officers and 
soldiers. There was a sentiment in his favor even among Ameri- 
cans. It was remembered that he was brother to the gallant 
youth, Lord Howe, whose untimely death had been lamented 
throughout the colonies. A mournful feeling had gone through 
the country, when General Howe was cited as one of the British 
commanders who had most distinguished themselves in the bloody 
battle of Bunker Hill. Congress spoke of it with generous sensi- 
bility. "America is amazed," said they, "to find the name of 
Howe on the catalogue of her enemies — she loved his bi'othei'N' 

Henry CHnton, next in command, was grandson of the Earl of 
Lincoln, and son of George Clinton, who had been governor of the 
province of New York for ten years, from 1743. The general had 
seen service on the continent in the Seven Years' War. He was 
of short stature, and inclined to corpulency ; with a full face and 
prominent nose. His manners were reser\^ed, and altogether he 
was in strong contrast with Howe, and by no means so popular. 

Burgoyne, the other British general of note, was a natural son of 
Lord Bingley, and had entered the army at an early age. AMiile 
yet a subaltern, he had made a runaway match with a daughter of 



170 LIFE OF IVASmNGTOJ^. 

the Earl of Derby, who threatened never to admit the offenders to 
his presence. In 1758, Burgoyne was a heutenant-colonel of Hght 
dragoons. In 1 761, he was sent with a force to aid the Portuguese 
against the Spaniards, and signahzed himself by surprising and 
capturing the town of Alcantara. He had since been elected to 
Parliament for the borough of Middlesex, and displayed consider- 
able talents. In 1772, he was made a major-general. His taste, 
wit, and intelligence, and his aptness at devising and promoting 
elegant amusements, made him for a time a leader in the gay 
world ; though Junius accuses him of unfair practices at the gaming 
table. His reputation for talents and services had gradually molli- 
fied the heart of his father-in-law, the Earl of Derby. In 1 7 74, he 
gave celebrity to the marriage of a son of the Earl with Lady Betty 
Hamilton, by producing an elegant dramatic trifle, entitled, " The 
Maid of the Oaks," afterwards performed at Drury Lane, and hon- 
ored with a biting sarcasm by Horace Walpole. " There is a new 
puppet-show at Drury Lane," writes the wit, " as fine as the scenes 
can make it, and as dull as the author could not help making it." 

It is but justice to Burgoyne's memory to add, that in after years 
he produced a dramatic work, "The Heiress," which extorted even 
Walpole 's approbation, who pronounced it the genteelest comedy 
in the English language. 

Such were the three British commanders at Boston ; and they 
had with them eleven thousand veteran troops, well appointed and 
well disciplined. 

The American troops were irregularly distributed in a kind of 
semicircle eight or nine miles in extent ; the left resting on Winter 
Hill, the most northern post ; the right extending on the south to 
Roxbury and Dorchester Neck. The semi-circular line which 
linked the extreme posts, was formed of rudely constructed works, 
far too extensive for the troops which were at hand to man them. 
The camps were as different in their forms, as the owners in their 
dress ; some of the tents made of boards, and some of sail-cloth ; 
others were made of stone and turf, brick and brush ; others 
curiously wrought with wreaths and withes. One of the encamp- 
ments, however, was in striking contrast with the rest, and might 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAICXS. 171 

vie with those of the British for order and exactness. Here 
were tents pitched in the Enghsh style ; soldiers well drilled and 
well equipped ; everything had an air of discipline and subordi- 
nation. It was a body of Rhode Island troops, which had been 
raised, drilled, and brought to the camp by Brigadier-general 
Greene, of that province, whose subsequent renown entitles him 
to an introduction to the reader. 

Nathaniel Greene was born in Rhode Island, on the 26th of 
May, 1742. His father was a miller, an anchor-smith, and a 
Quaker preacher, Greene, in his boyhood, followed the plough, 
and occasionally worked at the forge of his father. Having an 
early thirst for knowledge, he applied himself sedulously to various 
studies, while subsisting by the labor of his hands. Nature had 
endowed him with quick parts, and a sound judgment, and his 
assiduity was crowned with success. In the late turn of public 
affairs, he had caught the warlike spirit prevalent throughout the 
country. Plutarch, and Caesar's Commentaries became his delight. 
He applied himself to military studies, for which he was prepared 
by some knowledge of mathematics. His ambition was to organ- 
ize and discipline a corps of militia to which he belonged. For 
this purpose, during a visit to Boston, he had taken note of every- 
thing about the discipline of the British troops. In the month of 
May, he had been elected commander of the En-^de Island con- 
tingent of the army of observation, and in June hau conducted to 
the lines before Boston three regiments, which were piji'ounced 
the best in the army. 

Greene made a soldier-like address to Washington, welcomiuj^ 
him to the camp. His appearance and manner were calculated 
to make a favorable impression. He was thirty-three years of 
age, nearly six feet high, well built and vigorous, with an open, 
animated, intelligent countenance, and a frank, manly demeanor. 
He may be said to have stepped at once into the confidence of 
the commander-in-chief, which he never forfeited, but became one 
of his most attached, faithful, and efficient coadjutors throughout 
the war. 

Colonel Mifflin was the first person who officiated as Washing- 



172 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ton's aide-de-camp. He was a Philadelphia gentleman of high 
respectability, who had accompanied him from that city, and re- 
ceived his appointment shortly after their arrival at Cambridge. 
The second aide-de-camp was John Trumbull/ son of the governor 
of Connecticut ; he had caught the favorable notice of Washington 
by some drawings which he had made of the enemy's works. 

The member of Washington's family most deserving of mention 
at present, was his secretary, Mr. Joseph Reed. With this gentle- 
man he had formed an intimacy in the course of his visits to Phil- 
adelphia, to attend the sessions of the Continental Congress. Mr. 
Reed was an accomplished man, had studied law in America, and 
at the Temple in London, and had gained a high reputation at 
the Philadelphia bar. He had been highly instrumental in rous- 
ing the Philadelphians to co-operate with the patriots of Boston. 
Washington's friendship towards him was frank and cordial, and 
the confidence he reposed in him full and implicit. 

The hazardous position of the army from the great extent and 
weakness of its lines, was what most pressed on the immediate 
attention of Washington ; and he now hastened to improve the 
defences of the camp, strengthen the weak parts of the line, and 
throw up additional works round the main forts. About seven 
hundred men were distributed in the small towns and villages 
along the coast, to prevent depredations by water ; and horses 
were kept ready saddled at various points of the widely extended 
lines, to convey to head-quarters intelligence of any special move- 
ment of the enemy. The army was distributed by Washington 
into three grand divisions. One, forming the right wing, and 
stationed on the heights of Roxbury, was commanded by Major- 
general Ward, who had under him Brigadier-generals Spencer and 
Thomas. Another, forming the left wing under Major-general 
Lee, having with him Brigadier-generals Sullivan and Greene, was 
stationed on Winter and Prospect Hills ; while the centre, under 
Major-general Putnam and Brigadier-general Heath, was stationed 
at Cambridge. At Washington's recommendation, Joseph Trum- 

1 In after years distinguished as a historical painter. 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 173 

bull, the eldest son of the governor, received, on the 24th of July, 
the appointment of commissary-general of the continental army. 
Nothing excited more gaze and wonder among the rustic visitors 
to the camp, than the arrival of several rifle companies, fourteen 
hundred men in all, from Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia ; 
such stalwart fellows as Washington had known in his early cam- 
paigns. Stark hunters and bush fighters ; many of them upwards 
of six feet high, and of vigorous frame ; dressed in fringed frocks, 
or rifle shirts, and round hats. Their displays of sharpshooting 
were soon among the marvels of the camp. We are told that 
while advancing at quick step, they could hit a mark of seven 
inches diameter, at the distance of two hundred and fifty yards. 
One of these companies was commanded by Captain Daniel Mor- 
gan, a native of New Jersey, whose first experience in war had 
been to accompany Braddock's army as a wagoner. He had since 
carried arms on the frontier and obtained a command. He and 
his riflemen in coming to the camp had marched six hundred 
miles in three weeks. They will be found of signal efficiency in 
the sharpest conflicts of the war. 

Invasion of Canada. — The project of an invasion of Canada, 
urged by Aflen and Arnold, had at first met with no favor, the 
Continental Congress having formally resolved to make no hostile 
attempts upon that province. Intelligence subsequently received 
induced it to change its plans. Carleton was said to be strength- 
ening the fortifications and garrison at St. John, and preparing to 
launch vessels on the lake wherewith to regain command of it, 
and retake the captured posts. Powerful reinforcements were 
coming from England and elsewhere. Guy Johnson was stirring 
up the Six Nations to hostility. On the other hand, Canada was 
full of religious and political dissensions. The late exploits of the 
Americans on Lake Champlain had produced a favorable effect on 
the Canadians, who would flock to the patriot standard if unfurled 
among them by an imposing force. Now was the time to strike a 
blow to paralyze all hostility from this quarter ; now, while Carle- 
ton's regular force was weak, and before the arrival of additional 
troops. Influenced by these considerations, Congress now deter- 



174 LIFE OF WASHINGTON'. 

mined to extend the Revolution into Canada, but it was an enter- 
prise too important to be intrusted to any but discreet hands. 
General Schuyler was accordingly ordered, on the 27th June, to 
proceed to Ticonderoga, and, " should he find it practicable and 
not disagreeable to the Canadians, immediately to take possession 
of St. John and Montreal, and pursue such other measures in 
Canada as might have a tendency to promote the peace and 
security of these provinces." 

Schuyler was on the alert. He had learnt that there were about 
seven hundred king's troops in that province ; three hundred of 
them at St. John, about fifty at Quebec, the remainder at Mon- 
treal, Chambly, and the upper posts. Colonel Guy Johnson was 
at Montreal with three hundred men, mostly his tenants, and a 
number of Indians. Now was the time, according to his inform- 
ants, to carry Canada. It might be done with great ease and 
little cost. While awaiting further orders Schuyler repaired to 
Albany, to hold a conference with the warriors of the Six Nations, 
whom he had invited to meet him at that place. General Mont- 
gomery was to remain in command at Ticonderoga, during his 
absence, and to urge forward the military preparations. 

Richard Montgomery was of a good family in the north of Ire- 
land, where he" was born in 1736. He entered the army when 
about eighteen years of age ; served in America in the French 
war ; won a lieutenancy by gallant conduct at Louisburg ; followed 
General Amherst to Lake Champlain, and, after the conquest of 
Canada, was promoted to a captaincy for his services in the West 
Indies. After the peace of Versailles he resided in England ; but, 
about three years before the breaking out of the Revolution, he 
sold out his commission in the army and migrated to New York. 
Here he married the eldest daughter of Robert Livingston, and 
took up his residence on an estate on the banks of the Hudson. 
Being known to be in favor of the popular cause, he was drawn 
reluctantly from his rural abode, to represent his county in the 
first convention of the province ; and on the recent organization 
of the army, his military reputation gained him the unsought com- 
mission of brigadier-general. At this time Montgomery was about 




Albany 



INVASION 0^ CANADA 
Mantgomery/Arnold. 



To face page 175, 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 175 

thirty-nine years of age, and the beau ideal of a soldier. His form 
was well proportioned and vigorous ; his countenance expressive 
and prepossessing; he was cool and discriminating in council, 
energetic and feadess in action. His principles commanded the 
respect of friends and foes, and he was noted for winning the 
affections of the soldiery. 

Before Schuyler's return to Ticonderoga, Montgomery had re- 
ceived intelligence that Carleton had completed his armed vessels 
at St. John, and was about to send them into Lake Champlain 
by the Sorel river. No time, therefore, was to be lost in getting 
possession of the Isle aux Noix, which commanded the entrance 
to that river. Montgomery hastened to embark with about a 
thousand men, which were as many as the boats now ready could 
hold, taking with him two pieces of artillery ; with this force he 
set off down the lake. A letter to General Schuyler explained the 
cause of his sudden departure, and entreated him to follow on in 
a whaleboat, leaving the residue of the artillery to com^ on as soon 
as conveyances could be procured. Schuyler arrived at Ticon- 
deroga on the night of the 30th of August, but too ill of a bilious 
fever to push on in a whaleboat. He caused a bed to be prepared 
for him in a covered bateau, and, ill as he was, continued forward 
on the following day. On the 4th of September he overtook 
Montgomery at the Isle la Motte, where he had been detained l)y 
contrary weather, and, assuming command of the little army, kept 
on the same day to the Isle aux Noix, about twelve miles south of 
St. John. 

In the meantime, as it was evident the enemy in Boston did 
not intend to come out, but were only strengthening their defences 
and preparing for winter, Washington was enabled to turn his 
attention to the expedidon to be sent into Canada by the way of 
the Kennebec river. A detachment of about eleven hundred 
men, chosen for the purpose, was soon encamped on Cambridge 
Common. There were ten companies of New England infantry, 
some of them from General Greene's Rhode Island regiments ; 
three rifle companies from Pennsylvania and Virginia, one of them 
Captain Morgan's famous company ; and a number of volunteers ; 



176 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

among whom was Aaron Burr, then but twenty years of age, and 
just commencing his brilHant but unfortunate career. 

The proposed expedition was wild and j^erilous, and required a 
skilful and intrepid leader. Such a one was at hand. Benedict 
Arnold was at Cambridge, and Washington considered him the 
very man for the enterprise. He had shown aptness for military 
service, whether on land or water. He was acquainted, too, with 
Canada, and especially with Quebec, having, in the course of his 
checkered life, traded in horses between that place and the West 
Indies. With these considerations Washington intrusted him with 
the command of the expedition, giving him the commission of 
lieutenant-colonel in the continental army. In the general letter 
of instructions, Washington inserted the following clause. " If 
Lord Chatham's son should be in Canada, and in any way fall into 
your power, you are enjoined to treat him with all possible defer- 
ence and respect. You cannot err in paying too much honor to 
the son of so illustrious a character and so true a friend to 
America." Arnold was furnished with handbills for distribution 
in Canada, setting forth the friendly objects of the present expe- 
dition, as well as of that under General Schuyler ; and calling on 
the Canadians to furnish necessaries and accommodations of every 
kind ; for which they were assured ample compensation. 

On the 13th of September Arnold struck his tents, and set out 
in high spirits. Washington enjoined upon him to push forward, 
as rapidly as possible, success depending upon celerity; and 
counted the days as they elapsed after his departure, impatient to 
receive tidings of his progress up the Kennebec, and expecting 
that the expedition would reach Quebec about the middle of 
October. In the interim came letters from Schuyler, giving par- 
ticulars of the main expedition. 

For some time past General Schuyler had been struggling with a 
compHcation of maladies, but exerted himself to the utmost in the 
harassing business of the camp, still hoping to be able to move 
with the army. When everything was nearly ready, he was 
attacked in the night by a severe access of his disorder, which 
confined him to his bed, and compelled him to surrender the 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 177 

conduct of the expedition to General Montgomery. Since he 
could be of no further use, therefore, in this quarter, he caused his 
bed to be placed on board a covered bateau, and set off for Ticon- 
deroga, to hasten forward reinforcements and supplies. On the 
1 6th of September, the day after his departure, Montgomery pro- 
ceeded to carry out the plans which had been concerted between 
them. Detaching a force of five hundred men, among whom were 
three hundred Green Mountain Boys under Seth Warner, to take 
a position at the junction of two roads leading to Montreal and 
Chambly, so as to intercept relief from these points, he now pro- 
ceeded to invest St. John. A battery was erected on a point of 
land commanding the fort, the ship-yards, and the armed schooner. 
Another was thrown up in the woods on the east side of the fort, 
at six hundred yards' distance, and furnished with two small mor- 
tars. All this was don^ under an incessant fire from the enemy, 
which, as yet, was but feebly returned. St. John had a garrison 
of five or six hundred regulars and two hundred Canadian militia. 
Its commander. Major Preston, made a brave resistance. Mont- 
gomery had not proper battering cannon ; his mortars were defec- 
tive ; his artillerists unpractised, and the engineer ignorant of the 
first principles of his art. The siege went on slowly, until the 
arrival of an artillery company under Captain Lamb, expedited from 
Saratoga by General Schuyler. Lamb, who was an able officer, 
immediately bedded a thirteen-inch mortar, and commenced a 
fire of shot and shells upon the fort. The distance, however, was 
too great, and the positions of the batteries were ill chosen. A 
flourishing letter was received by the General from Ethan Allen, 
giving hope of further reinforcement. " I am now," writes he, 
" at the Parish of St. Ours, four leagues from Sorel to the south. 
I have two hundred and fifty Canadians under arms. As I march, 
they gather fast. You may rely on it, that I shall join you in 
about three days, with five hundred or more Canadian volunteers. 
I could raise one or two thousand in a week's time ; but I will first 
visit the army with a less number, and, if necessary, go again 
recruiting. Those that used to be enemies to our cause come, 
cap in hand, to me ; and I swear by the Lord, I can raise three 



178 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

times the number of our army in Canada, provided you continue 
the siege. . . . The eyes of all America, nay, of Europe, are or 
will be on the economy of this army and the consequences attend- 
ing it." 

Allen was actually on his way toward St. John, when, between 
Longueil and La Prairie, he met Major Brown with a party of 
Americans and Canadians. Brown assured him that the garrison 
at Montreal did not exceed thirty men, and might easily be sur- 
prised. Allen's partisan spirit was instantly excited. Here was a 
chance for another bold stroke equal to that at Ticonderoga. A 
plan was forthwith agreed upon. Allen was to return to Longueil, 
which is nearly opposite Montreal, and cross the St. Lawrence in 
canoes in the night, so as to land a little below the town. Brown, 
with two hundred men, was to cross above, and Montreal was to 
be attacked simultaneously at opposite^ points. All this was 
arranged and put in action without the consent or knowledge of 
Montgomery ; x^llen was again the partisan leader, acting from 
individual impulse. His late letter to Montgomery would seem 
to have partaken of fanfaronade ; for the whole force with which 
he undertook his part of this inconsiderate enterprise was thirty 
Americans and eighty Canadians. With these he crossed the 
river on the night of the 24th of September, the few canoes found 
at Longueil having to pass to and fro repeatedly, before his petty 
force could be landed. Guards were stationed on the roads to 
prevent any one passing and giving the alarm in Montreal. Day 
dawned, but there was no signal of Major Brown having performed 
his part of the scheme. The enterprise seems to have been as ill 
concerted as it was ill advised. The day advanced, but still no 
signal; it was evident Major Brown had not crossed. Allen would 
gladly have recrossed the river, but it was too late. An alarm had 
been given to the town, and he soon found himself encountered by 
about forty regular soldiers and a hasty levy of Canadians and 
Indians. A smart action ensued ; most of Allen's Canadian re- 
cruits gave way and fled, a number of Americans were slain, and 
he at length surrendered to the British officer, Major Campbell, 
being promised honorable terms for himself and thirty-eight of his 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 179 

men, who remained with him, seven of whom were wounded. The 
prisoners were marched into the town and dehvered over to Gen- 
eral Prescott, the commandant. Their rough appearance and rude 
equipments were not hkely to gain them favor in the eyes of the 
mihtary tactician, who doubtless considered them as little better 
than a band of freebooters on a maraud. Their leader, albeit a 
colonel, must have seemed worthy of the band ; for Allen was 
arrayed in rough frontier style — a deer-skin jacket, a vest and 
breeches of coarse serge, worsted stockings, stout shoes, and a 
red woollen cap. 

We give Allen's own account of his reception by the British 
officer. " He asked me my name, which I told him. He then 
asked me whether I was that Colonel Allen who took Ticonderoga. 
I told him I was the very man. Then he shook his cane over my 
head, calling me many hard names, among which he frequently 
used the word rebel, and put himself in a great rage." 

Ethan Allen, according to his own account, answered with be- 
coming spirit. Indeed he gives somewhat of a melodramatic 
scene, which ended by his being sent on board of the Gaspee 
schooner of war, heavily ironed, to be transported to England for 
trial; Prescott giving him the parting assurance, sealed with an 
emphatic oath, that he would grace a halter at Tyburn. 

The conduct. of Allen was severely censured by Washington. 
"His misfortune," said he, "will, I hope, teach a lesson of pru- 
dence and subordination to others who may be ambitious to out- 
shine their general officers, and, regardless of order and duty, rush 
into enterprises which have unfavorable effects on the public, and 
are destructive to themselves." 

Shordy after writing the above, and while he was full of solicitude 
about the fate of Arnold, Washington received a dispatch from the 
latter dated October 13, from the great portage or carrying-place 
between the Kennebec and Dead river. " Your Excellency," 
writes Arnold, " may possibly think we have been tardy in our 
march, as we have gained so litUe ; but when you consider the 
badness and weight of the bateaux, and large quantities of pro- 
visions, etc., we have been obliged to force up against a very rapid 



ISO LIFE OF WASHIXGTOX. 

Stream, where you would h;u o taken the meri for amphibious ani- 
mals, as they were a great jnirt of the time under water : add tt> 
this the great fatigue in the portage, you will think I haNe pushed 
the men as fast as they could possibly bear." 

The toils of the expedition up the Kennebec river had indeed 
been excessive. Part oi the men <>i each division managed the 
boats — part marched along the bai\ks. Those on board had to 
labor against swift currents ; to \mkx\d at rapids ; transport the 
cargoes, and sometimes the boats themselves, for some distance 
on their shoulders, and then to reload. They were days in making 
their way round stupendous cataracts : several times their boats 
were upset and tilled with water, to the loss or ilamage o\. arms, 
ammunition, and proNvisions. Those on land had to scramble over 
rocks and precipices, to struggle through swamps and fenny 
streams ; or cut their way through tangled thickets, which reduced 
their clothes to rags. A\'ith all their efforts, their progress was but 
from four to ten miles a day. At night, the men of each division 
encamped together. By the time they arrived at the place whence 
the letter was written, firtigue, swamp fevers, and desertion had 
reduced their numbers to about nine hundred and fifty effective 
men. Arnold, however, wrote in good heart. '' The last division," 
said he, " is just arrived ; three divisions are over the first carry- 
ing-place, and as the men are in high spirits, I make no doubt of 
reaching the river Chaudi^re in eight or ten days, the greatest 
difficulty being, I hope, already past." He had some days previ- 
ously dispatched an Indian, whom he considered trusty, with a 
letter for Schuyler, apprising him of his whereabouts, but as yet 
had received no intelligence either of or from the general, nor did 
he expect to receive any untf^ he should reach Chaudiere Pond. 
There he calculated to meet the return of his express, and then to 
determine his plan of operations. 

Burning of Falmouth. — A\'hile the two expeditions were 
threatening Canada from different quarters, the war was going on 
along the seaboard. The P>ritish in Boston, cut off from supplies 
by land, fitted out small armed vessels to seek them along the 
coast of New England. The inhabitants drove their cattle into 



I'KJ-J.IMJNARY CAMPAIGNS. 181 

the interior, or Ijoldly resisted the aggressors. Parties landing to 
ff>rage were often repulsed by hasty levies of the yeomanry. 
Scenes of ravage and violence occurred. Stonington was cannon- 
aded, and further measures of vengeance were threatened by 
(Captain Wallaf:e of the Rose man-of-war, a naval officer, who 
had acquired an almost piratical reputation along the coast, and 
had his rendezvous in the harbor of Newport, domineering over 
the waters of Rhode Island. To chcfk these maraudings, and to 
capture the enemy's transports laden with supplies, the provinces 
of Massachusetts, Rhode Island, and Connecticut, fitted out two 
armed vessels each, at their own expense, without seeking the 
sanction or aifl of Congress. Washington, also, on his own re- 
sponsibility, ordered several to be equijjped for like purpose, 
which were to be manned by hardy mariners, and commanded by 
able sea captains, actually serving in the army. C^ne of these 
vessels was flispatcherl as soon as ready, to cruise between (Jape 
Ann and Cajje Cofl. Two others were fitted out with all haste, 
and sent to cruise in the waters of the St. Lawrence, to intercept 
two unarmed brigantines which Congress had been informed had 
sailed from l-jigland for Quebec, with ammunition and military 
stores. y\mong the sturdy little New England seaj>orts, which had 
become obnoxious to punishment by resistance to nautical exac- 
tions, was J'almouth (now Portland), in Maine. 

On the evening of the nth of CJctober, Lieutenant Mowatt, of 
the r(;yal navy, appeared before it with several armed vessels, and 
sent a letter on shore, apprising the inhabitants that he was come 
to execute a just punishment on them for their "premeditated at- 
tacks on the legal prerogatives of the best of sovereigns." Two 
hours were given them " to remove the human species out of the 
town," at the period of which, a red pendant hoisted at the main- 
top-gallant masthead, and a gun, would be the signal for destruc- 
tion. The letter brought a deputation of three persons on board. 
The lieutenant informed them verbally, that he had orders from 
Admiral Oaves to set fire to all the seaport towns between Boston 
and Halifax; and he expected New York, at the present moment, 
was in ashes. With much difficulty, and on the surrendering of 



182 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

some arms, the committee obtained a respite until nine o'clock the 
next morning, and the inhabitants employed the interval in remov 
ing their families and effects. The next morning the committee 
returned on board before nine o'clock. The Ueutenant now of- 
fered to spare the town on certain conditions, which were refused. 
About half-past nine o'clock the red pendant was run up to the 
masthead, and the signal gun fired. Within five minutes several 
houses were in flames, from a discharge of bombshells, which 
continued throughout the day. The inhabitants, "standing on 
the heights, were spectators of the conflagration, which reduced 
many of them to penury and despair." One hundred and thirty- 
nine dwelling-houses and two hundred and twenty-eight stores are 
said to have been burnt. All the vessels in the harbor, likewise, 
were destroyed or carried away as prizes. Having satisfied his 
sense of justice with respect to Falmouth, the gallant lieutenant 
left it a smoking ruin, and made sail, as was said, for Boston, 
to supply himself with more ammunition, having the intention to 
destroy Portsmouth also. 

The conflagration of Falmouth was as a bale fire throughout the 
country. Under the feeling roused by it, the General Court of 
Massachusetts, exercising a sovereign power, passed an act for 
encouraging the fitting out of armed vessels to defend the sea- 
coast of America, and for erecting a court to try and condemn all 
vessels that should be found infesting the same. This act, grant- 
mg letters of marque and reprisal, anticipated any measure of the 
kind on the part of the General Government, and was pronounced 
by John Adams, "one of the most important documents in his- 
tory." 

Whatever part General Gage may have had in this discreditable 
measure, he did not remain long enough in the country to see it 
carried into effect. He sailed for England on the lothof October, 
and never returned to America. The measures which his succes- 
sor. General Howe, adopted after taking command in Boston re- 
joiced the royalists. He proceeded to strengthen the works on 
Bunker Hill and Boston Neck, and to clear away houses and 
throw up redoubts on eminences within the town. The patriot 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 183 

inhabitants were shocked by the desecration of the Old South 
Churcli, which for more than a hundred years had been a favorite 
place of worship, where some of the most eminent divines had 
officiated. The pulpit and pews were now removed, the floor was 
covered with earth, and the sacred edifice was converted into a 
riding-school for Burgoyne's light dragoons. To excuse its dese- 
cration, it was spoken of scoffingly as a " meeting-house, where 
sedition had often been preached." The North Church, another 
" meeting-house," was entirely demolished and used for fuel. 

Washington had recently been incensed by the burning of Fal- 
mouth ; the measures of General Howe seemed of the same harsh 
character, and he determined to retaliate by seizing Tories. 

The season was fast approaching when the bay between the 
camp and Boston would be frozen over, and military operations 
might be conducted upon the ice. Washington felt the necessity, 
therefore, of guarding the camps wherever they were most assail- 
able ; he had been embarrassed throughout the siege by the want 
of artillery and ordnance stores ; but never more so than at the 
present moment. In this juncture, Mr. Henry Knox stepped 
forward, and offered to proceed to the frontier forts on Cham- 
plain in quest of a supply. Knox was one of those providential 
characters which spring up in emergencies, as if they were formed 
by and for the occasion. A thriving bookseller in Boston, he had 
left his business to take up arms for the liberties of his country. 
He had fought on Bunker Hill, and had since aided in planning 
the defences of the camp before Boston. The talent here dis- 
played by him as an artillerist, had induced Washington to 
recommend him to Congress for the command of the artillery in 
place of the veteran Gridley, who was considered too old for active 
employment. In the mean time Washington availed himself of 
the offered services of Knox in the present instance. He was in- 
structed to hasten to New York, procure and forward all the artil- 
lery and ammunition that could be had there ; and thence proceed 
to the head-quarters of General Schuyler, who was requested to 
aid him in obtaining further supplies from the forts at Ticonderoga 
and Crown Point. Knox set off on his errand with promptness 



184 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and alacrity, and shortly afterwards the commission of colonel of 
the regiment of artillery which Washington had advised, was for- 
warded to him by Congress. 

The re-enlistment of troops actually in service was now attempted, 
and proved a fruitful source of perplexity. Half of the officers of 
the rank of captain were inclined to retire ; and it was probable 
their example would influence their men. Of those who were dis- 
posed to remain, the officers of one colony were unwilHng to mix 
in the same regiment with those of another. The difficulties were 
still greater with the soldiers. They would not enlist unless they 
knew their colonel, Heutenant-colonel, and captain • Connecticut 
men being unwilling to serve under officers from Massachusetts, 
and Massachusetts men under officers from Rhode Island ; so 
that it was necessary to appoint the officers first. 

" Such dearth of public spirit," wrote Washington to Reed, " and 
such want of virtue, such stock-jobbing, and fertility in all the low 
arts to obtain advantage of one kind or another in this great change 
of military arrangement, I never saw before, and I pray God's 
mercy that I may never be witness to again. What will be the end 
of these manoeuvres is beyond my scan. I tremble at the pros- 
pect. We have been till this time (Nov. 28) enhsting about three 
thousand five hundred men. To engage these, I have been 
obliged to allow furloughs as far as fifty men to a regiment, and the 
officers I am persuaded indulge many more. The Connecticut 
troops will not be prevailed upon to stay longer than their term, 
saving those who have enUsted for the next campaign, and are 
mostly on furlough ; and such a mercenary spirit pervades the 
whole, that I should not be surprised at any disaster that may 
happen. . . . Could I have foreseen what I have experienced and 
am likely to experience, no consideration upon earth should have 
induced me to accept this command." 

Arnold's March through the Wilderness. — The transportation 
of troops and effects across the carrying-place between the Kenne- 
bec and Dead rivers, had been a work of severe toil to Arnold and 
his men, but was performed with admirable spirit. There were 
ponds and streams full of trout and salmon, which furnished them 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 185 

with fresh provisions. Launching their boats on the shiggish waters 
of the Dead river, they navigated it in divisions to the foot of 
snow-crowned mountains. Here, while Arnold and the first division 
were encamped to repose themselves, heavy rains set in, and they 
came near being swept away by sudden torrents from the moun- 
tains. Several of their boats were overturned, much of their food 
was lost, the sick hst increased, and the good spirits which had 
hitherto sustained them began to give way. They were on scanty 
allowance, with a prospect of harder times, for there were still 
twelve or fifteen days of wilderness before them, where no supplies 
were to be had. A council of war was now held, in which it was 
determined to send back the sick and disabled. Arnold wrote to 
the commanders of the other divisions to press on with as many of 
their men as they could furnish with provisions for fifteen days, 
and to send the rest back to a place on the route called Norridge- 
wock. This order was misunderstood, or misinterpreted, by Colo- 
nel Enos, who commanded the rear division ; he gave all the 
provisions he could spare to Colonel Greene of the third division, 
retaining merely enough to supply his own corps of three hundred 
men, on their way back to Norridgewock, whither he immediately 
returned. 

Letters from Arnold and Enos apprised Washington of this 
grievous flaw in the enterprise. He regarded it, however, as usual, 
with a hopeful eye. " Notwithstanding this great defection," said 
he, " I do not despair of Colonel Arnold's success. He will have, 
in all probability, many more difficulties to encounter, than if he 
had been a fortnight sooner ; as it is likely that Governor Carleton, 
will, with what forces he can collect after the surrender of the rest 
of Canada, throw himself into Quebec, and there make his last 
eflbrt." 

Washington was not mistaken in the confidence he had placed 
in the energy of Arnold. Though the latter found his petty force 
greatly reduced by the retrograde move of Enos and his party, 
and although snow and ice rendered his march still more bleak 
among the mountains, he kept on with unflinching spirit until he 
arrived at the ridge which divides the streams of New England 



186 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and Canada. Here, at Lake Megantic, the source of the Chau- 
diere, he met an emissary whom he had sent in advance to 
ascertain the feehngs of the French yeomanry, in the fertile valley 
of that stream. His report being favorable, Arnold shared out 
among the different companies the scanty provisions which re- 
mained, directing them to make the best of their way for the 
Chaudiere settlements; while he, with a light foraging party, 
would push rapidly ahead, to procure and send back supplies. 
He accordingly embarked with his little party in five bateaux and 
a birch canoe, and launched forth without a guide on the swift 
current of the Chaudiere. It was little better than a mountain 
torrent, full of rocks and rapids. Three of their boats were dashed 
to pieces, the cargoes lost, and the crews saved with difficulty. 
At one time, the whole party came near being precipitated over a 
cataract, where all might have perished ; at length they reached 
Sertigan, the first French settlement, where they were cordially 
received. Here Arnold bought provisions, which he sent back by 
the Canadians and Indians to his troops. The latter were in a 
state of starvation. Some had not tasted food for eight-and-forty 
hours ; others had cooked two dogs, followers of the camp ; and 
others had boiled their moccasins, cartouch boxes, and other 
articles of leather, in the hope of rendering them eatable. 

Arnold halted for a short time in the hospitable valley of the 
Chaudiere, to give his troops repose, and distributed among the 
inhabitants the printed manifesto with which he had been furnished 
by Washington. Here he was joined by about forty Norridgewock 
Indians. On the 9th of November, the httle army emerged from 
the woods at Point Levi, on the St. Lawrence, opposite to Quebec. 
A letter written by an inhabitant of that place, speaks of their 
sudden apparition. 

" There are about five hundred provincials arrived at Point Levi, 
opposite to the town, by the way of Chaudiere across the woods. 
Surely a miracle must have been wrought in their favor. It is an 
undertaking above the common race of men in this debauched 
age." 

Meanwhile Montgomery, having captured St. John, appeared 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 187 

before Montreal on the 12th of November. General Carleton had 
embarked with his httle garrison, and several of the civil officers 
of the place, and made sail in the night, carrying away with him 
the powder and other important stores. The town capitulated, of 
course ; and Montgomery took quiet possession. His urbanity 
and kindness soon won the good will of the inhabitants and made 
them sensible that he really came to secure their rights, not to 
molest them. Intercepted letters acquainted him with Arnold's 
arrival in the neighborhood of Quebec, and the great alarm of 
" the king's friends," who expected to be besieged : " which, with 
the blessing of God, they shall be," said Montgomery, " if the 
severe season holds off, and I can prevail on the troops to accom- 
pany me." 

His immediate object was the capture of Carleton, which would 
form a triumphal close to the enterprise, and might decide the 
fate of Canada. The flotilla in which the general was embarked, 
had made repeated attempts to escape down the St. Lawrence ; 
but had as often been driven back by batteries thrown up by the 
Americans at the mouth of the Sorel. It now lay anchored about 
fifteen miles above that river, and Montgomery prepared to attack 
it with bateaux and light artillery, so as to force it down upon the 
batteries. Carleton saw his imminent peril. Disguising himself 
as a Canadian voyager, he set off on a dark night accompanied by 
six peasants, in a boat with muffled oars, slipped quietly past the 
batteries and guard-boats, and effected his escape to Three Rivers, 
where he embarked in a vessel for Quebec. After his departure 
the flotilla surrendered, and all those who had taken refuge on 
board were made prisoners of war, among them General Prescott, 
late commander of Montreal. 

Montgomery now prepared to descend the St. Lawrence, and 
co-operate with Arnold against Quebec. To his disappointment 
and deep chagrin, he found but a handful of his troops disposed 
to accompany him. Some pleaded ill health ; the term of enlist- 
ment of many had expired, and they were bent on returning home ; 
others, who had no such excuses to make, became turbulent and 
mutinous. While Montgomery was thus detained at Montreal, 



188 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Arnold was meditating an attack on Quebec. Could he have 
crossed the river without delay he might have carried the town by 
a sudden assault ; for terror as well as disaffection prevailed among 
the inhabitants. At Point Levi, however, he was brought to a 
stand ; not a boat was to be found there. Letters which he had 
dispatched some days previously, by two Indians, to Generals 
Schuyler and Montgomery, had been carried by his faithless 
messengers to the Ueutenant-govemor, who, thus apprised of the 
impending danger, had caused all the boats at Point Levi to 
be either removed or destroyed. 

Arnold was not a man to be disheartened by difficulties. With 
great exertions he procured about forty birch canoes from the 
Canadians and Indians, with forty of the latter to navigate them ; 
but stormy winds arose, and for some days the river was too bois- 
terous for such frail craft. In the meantime the garrison at Que- 
bec was gaining strength. The Lizaj^d frigate, the Hornet sloop- 
of-war, and two armed schooners were stationed in the river, and 
guard-boats patrolled at night. The prospect of a successful 
attack upon the place was growing desperate. 

On the 13th of November, Arnold received intelligence that 
Montgomery had captured St. John. He was instantly roused 
to emulation. His men, too, were inspirited by the news. The 
wind had abated : he was determined to cross the river that very 
night. At a late hour in the evening he embarked with the first 
division, principally riflemen. The river was wide ; the current 
rapid ; the birch canoes, easy to be upset, required skilful man- 
agement. By four o'clock in the morning, a large part of his force 
had crossed without being perceived, and landed about a mile and 
a half above Cape Diamond, at Wolfe's Cove, so called from being 
the landing-place of that gallant commander. Just then a guard- 
boat belonging to the Lizard, came slowly along shore and dis- 
covered them. They hailed it, and ordered it to land. Not com- 
plying it was fired into, and three men were killed. The boat 
instantly pulled for the frigate, giving vociferous alarm. Without 
waiting the arrival of the residue of his men, for whom the canoes 
had been dispatched, Arnold led those who had landed to the foot 



PRELIMINAR V CAMPAIGNS. 



189 



of the cragged defile, once scaled by the intrepid Wolfe, and scram- 
bled up it in all haste. By daylight he had planted his daring flag 
on the far-famed Heights of Abraham. 

Here the main difficulty stared him in the face. A strong line 
of walls and bastions traversed the promontory from one of its 
precipitous sides to the other, inclosing the upper and lower 
towns. On the right, the great bastion of Cape Diamond crowned 
the rocky height of that name. On the left was the bastion of La 
Potasse, close by the gate of St. John opening upon the barracks ; 
the gate where Wolfe's antagonist, the gallant Montcalm, received 
his death wound. 

A council of war was now held. Arnold, who had some knowl- 
edge of the place, was for dashing forward at once and storming 
the gate of St. John. Had they done so, they might have been 
successful. The gate was open and unguarded. Through some 
blunder and delay, a message from the commander of the Lizard 
to the lieutenant-governor had not yet been delivered, and no 
alarm had reached the fortress. The formidable aspect of the 
place, however, awed Arnold's associates in council. They con- 
sidered that their whole force was but between seven and eight 
hundred men ; that nearly one-third of their fire-arms had been 
rendered useless, and much of their ammunition damaged in their 
march through the wilderness ; they had no artillery, and the for- 
tress looked too strong to be carried by a coup de viain. Cautious 
counsel is often fatal to a daring enterprise. While the council of 
war deliberated, the favorable moment passed away. The lieu- 
tenant-governor received the tardy message. The din of arms 
resounded through the streets. The cry Avas up — " The enemy 
are on the Heights of Abraham ! The gate of St. John is open ! " 
There was an attempt to shut it. The keys were not to be found. 
It was hastily secured by ropes and handspikes, and the walls 
looking upon the heights were soon manned by the military and 
thronged by the populace. 

Arnold paraded his men within a hundred yards of the walls, 
and caused them to give three hearty cheers ; hoping to excite a 
revolt in the place, or to provoke the scanty garrison to a sally. 



190 • LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

There were a few scattered cheerings in return ; but the taunting 
bravado failed to produce a sortie ; the governor dared not ven- 
ture beyond the walls with part of his garrison, having too little 
confidence in the loyalty of those who would remain behind. In 
the evening Arnold sent a flag, demanding in the name of the 
United Colonies the surrender of the place. Some of the disaf- 
fected and faint-hearted were inchned to open the gates, but were 
held in check by the mastiff loyalty of Colonel Maclean, who 
guarded the gate with his Highlanders, forbade all communication 
with the besiegers, and fired upon their flag as an ensign of rebel- 
Hon. 

Several days elapsed. Arnold's flags of truce were repeatedly 
insulted, but he saw the futility of resenting it, and attacking the 
place with his present means. The inhabitants gradually recovered 
from their alarm, and armed themselves to defend their property. 
The sailors and marines proved a valuable addition to the garri- 
son, which now really meditated a sortie. 

Arnold received information of all this from friends within the 
walls ; he heard about the same time of the capture of Montreal, 
and that General Carleton, having escaped from that place, was 
on his way down to Quebec. He thought at present, therefore, 
to draw off on the 19th to Point aux Trembles (Aspen-tree Point), 
twenty miles above Quebec, there to await the arrival of Mont- 
gomery with troops and artillery. As his little army wended its 
way along the high bank of the river towards its destined encamp- 
ment, a vessel passed below, which had just touched at Point aux 
Trembles. On board of it was General Carleton, hurrying on to 
Quebec. It was not long before the distant booming of artillery 
told of his arrival at his post, where he resumed a stern command. 
He was unpopular among the inhabitants ; even the British mer- 
chants and other men of business were offended by the coldness 
of his manners, and his confining his intimacy to the military and 
the Canadian noblesse. He was aware of his unpopularity, and 
looked round him with distrust ; his first measure was to turn out 
of the place all suspected persons, and all who refused to aid in its 
defence. This caused a great " trooping out of town," but what 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 191 

was lost in numbers was gained in strength. With the loyally dis- 
posed who remained, he busied himself in improving the defences. 

Of the constant anxiety, yet enduring hope, with which Wash- 
ington watched this hazardous enterprise, we have evidence in his 
various letters. To Arnold, at Point Levi, he writes : " It is not 
in the power of any man to command success, but you have done 
more, you have deserved it; and before this time (Dec. 5th), I 
hope you have met with the laurels which are due to your toils, in 
the possession of Quebec." 

Attack on Quebec. — Montgomery had arrived at Point aux 
Trembles on the ist of December, and next day the army set off 
in face of a driving snow-storm for Quebec, and arrived before it 
on the 5th. The works, from their great extent, appeared to him 
incapable of being defended by the actual garrison ; made up, as 
he said, of " Maclean's banditti," the sailors from the frigates and 
other vessels, together with the citizens obliged to take up arms ; 
most of whom were impatient of the fatigues of a siege, and wished 
to see matters accommodated amicably. " I propose," added he, 
"amusing Mr. Carleton with a formal attack, erecting batteries, 
etc., but mean to assault the works, I believe towards the lower 
town, which is the weakest part." • 

According to his own account, his whole force did not exceed 
nine hundred effective men, three hundred of whom he had 
brought with him ; the rest he found with Colonel Arnold. The 
latter he pronounced an exceedingly fine corps. " There is a style 
of discipline among them," says he, " much superior to what I 
have been used to see in this campaign. Arnold is active, intelli- 
gent, and enterprising. Fortune often baffles the sanguine expec- 
tations of poor mortals. I am not intoxicated with her favors, but 
I do think there is a fair prospect of success." 

On the day of his arrival, he sent a flag with a summons to sur- 
render. It was fired upon, and obliged to retire. Exasperated at 
this outrage, Montgomery prepared for an attack. The ground 
was frozen to a great depth, and covered with snow; he was 
scantily provided with entrenching tools, and had only a field train 
of artillery, with a few mortars. By dint of excessive labor a breast- 



192 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

work was thrown up, four hundred yards distant from the walls, 
and opposite the gate of St. Louis, which is nearly in the centre. 
It was formed of gabions, ranged side by side, and filled with snow, 
over which water was thrown until thoroughly frozen. Here Cap- 
tain Lamb mounted five light pieces and a howitzer. Several 
mortars were placed in the suburbs of St. Roque, which extends 
on the left of the promontory, below the heights, and nearly on a 
level with the river. From the " Ice Battery " Captain Lamb 
opened a well-sustained and well-directed fire upon the walls, but 
his field-pieces were too light to be_ effective. With his howitzer 
he threw shells into the town and set it on fire in several places. 
For five days and nights the garrison was kept on the alert by the 
teasing fire of this battery. The object of Montgomery was to 
harass the town, and increase the dissatisfaction of the inhabitants. 
His flag of truce being still fired upon, he caused the Indians in 
his camp to shoot arrows into the town, having letters attached to 
them, addressed to the inhabitants, representing Carleton's refusal 
to treat, and advising them to rise in a body and compel him. It 
was all in vain ; whatever might have been the disposition of the 
inhabitants, they were completely under the control of the mili- 
tary. 

On the evening of the fifth day, Montgomery paid a visit to the 
ice battery. The heavy artillery from the wall had repaid its inef- 
fectual fire with ample usury. The brittle ramparts had been 
shivered like glass ; several of the guns had been rendered useless. 
Just as they arrived at the battery, a shot from the fortress dis- 
mounted one of the guns, and disabled many of the men. A sec- 
ond shot immediately following, was almost as destructive. " This 
is warm work, sir," said Montgomery to Captain Lamb. " It is 
indeed, and certainly no place for you, sir." '' Why so, Captain? " 
" Because there are enough of us here to be killed, without the loss 
of you, which would be irreparable." The general saw the insufli- 
ciency of the battery, and, on retiring, gave Captain Lamb permis- 
sion to leave it whenever he thought proper. The veteran waited 
until after dark, when, securing all the guns, he abandoned the 
ruined redoubt. 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 193 

Nearly three weeks had been consumed in these futile opera- 
tions. The army, ill-clothed and ill-provided, was becoming impa- 
tient of the rigors of a Canadian winter ; the term for which part 
of the troops had enlisted would expire with the year, and they 
already talked of returning home. Montgomery was sadly con- 
scious of the insufficiency of his means, but could not endure the 
thought of retiring from before the place without striking a blow. 
He determined, therefore, to attempt to carry the place by esca- 
lade. One- third of his men were to set fire to the houses and 
•stockades of the suburb of St. Roque, and force the barriers of the 
lower town ; while the main body should scale the bastion of Cape 
Diamond. 

It was a hazardous, almost a desperate project, yet it has met 
with the approbation of military men. He calculated upon the 
devotion and daring spirit of his men ; upon the discontent which 
prevailed among the Canadians, and upon the incompetency of 
the garrison for the defence of such extensive works. In regard 
to the devotion of his men, he was threatened with disappoint- 
ment. When the plan of assault was submitted to a council of 
war, three of the captains in Arnold's division, the terms of whose 
companies were near expiring, declined to serve, unless they and 
their men could be transferred to another command. This almost 
mutinous movement, it is supposed, was fomented by Major Brown, 
a bitter enemy of Arnold, and it was with infinite difficulty Mont- 
gomery succeeded in overcoming it. 

The ladders were now provided for the escalade, and Montgom- 
ery waited with impatience for a favorable night to put it into 
execution. Small-pox and desertion had reduced his litde army 
to seven hundred and fifty men. From certain movements of the 
enemy, it was surmised that deserters had revealed his plan. He 
changed, therefore, the arrangement. Colonel Livingston was to 
make a false attack on the gate of St. John and set fire to it ; 
Major Brown, with another detachment, was to menace the bastion 
of Cape Diamond. Arnold, with three hundred and fifty of the 
hardy fellows who had followed him through the wilderness, 
strengthened by Captain Lamb and forty of his company, was to 



194 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

assault the suburbs and batteries of St. Roque ; while Montgomery, 
with the residue of his forces, was to pass below the bastion at 
Cape Diamond, defile along the river, carry the defences at Drum- 
mond's Wharf, and thus enter the lower town on one side, while 
Arnold forced his way into it on the other. These movements 
were all to be made at the same time, on the discharge of signal 
rockets, thus distracting the enemy, and calling their attention to 
four several points. 

On the 31st of December, at two o'clock in the morning, the 
troops repaired to their several destinations, under cover of a vio- 
lent snow-storm. By some accident or mistake, such as is apt to 
occur in complicated plans of attack, the signal rockets were let off 
before the lower divisions had time to get to their fighting-ground. 
They were descried by one of Maclean's Highland officers, who 
gave the alarm. Livingston, also, failed to make the false attack 
on the gate of St. John, which was to have caused a diversion 
favorable to Arnold's attack on the suburb below. 

The feint by Major Brown, on the bastion of Cape Diamond, 
was successful, and concealed the march of General Montgomery. 
That gallant commander descended from the heights to Wolfe's 
Cove, and led his division along the shore of the St. Lawrence, 
round the beetling promontory of Cape Diamond. The narrow 
approach to the lower town in that direction was traversed by a 
picket or stockade, defended by Canadian militia ; beyond which 
was a second defence, a kind of block-house, forming a battery of 
small pieces, manned by Canadian militia, and a few seamen, and 
commanded by the captain of a transport. The aim of Montgom- 
ery was to come upon these barriers by surprise. The pass which 
they defended is formidable at all times, having a swift river on 
one side, and overhanging precipices on the other; but at this 
time it was rendered peculiarly difficult by drifting snow, and by 
great masses of ice piled on each other at the foot of the cliffs. 

The troops made their way painfully, in extended and straggling 
files, along the narrow footway, and over the slippery piles of ice. 
Among the foremost, were some of the first New York regiment, 
led by Captain Cheeseman. " Forward, men of New York ! " 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 195 

cried Montgomery. " You are not the men to flinch when your 
general leads you on ! " In his eagerness, he threw himself far in 
the advance, with his pioneers and a few officers, and made a dash 
at the first barrier. The Canadians stationed there made a few 
random shots, then threw down their muskets and fled. Mont- 
gomery sprang forward, aided with his own hand to pluck down 
the pickets, which the pioneers were sawing, and having made a 
breach sufficiently wide to admit three or four men abreast, entered 
sword in hand, followed by his staff. Captain Cheeseman, and 
some of his men. The Canadians had fled from the picket to the 
battery or block-house, but seemed to have carried the panic with 
them, for the battery remained silent. Montgomery felt for a 
moment as if the surprise had been complete. He paused in the 
breach to rally on the troops, who were stumbling along the diffi- 
cult pass. '' Push on, my brave boys," cried he, " Quebec is 
ours ! " 

He again dashed forward, but, when within forty paces of the 
battery, a discharge of grape-shot from a single cannon, made 
deadly havoc. Montgomery and one of his aides were killed on 
the spot. Captain Cheeseman received a canister shot through 
the body ; made an effort to rise and push forward, but fell back 
a corpse ; with him fell his orderly sergeant and several of his 
men. This slaughter, and the death of their general, threw every- 
thing into confusion. The officer next in rank was far in the rear ; 
in this emergency Colonel Campbell took command, but, instead 
of rallying the men to effect the junction with Arnold, ordered a 
retreat, and abandoned the half-won field, leaving behind him the 
bodies of the slain. 

While all this was occurring on the side of Cape Diamond, 
Arnold led his division against the opposite side of the lower town 
along the suburb and street of St. Roque. Like Montgomery, he 
took the advance at the head of a forlorn hope of twenty-five men. 
Captain Lamb and his artillery company came next, with a field- 
piece mounted on a sledge. Then came a company with ladders 
and scaling implements, followed by Morgan and his riflemen. In 
the rear of all these came the main body. A battery on a wharf 



196 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

commanded the narrow pass by which they had to advance. This 
was to be attacked with the field-piece, and then scaled with 
ladders by the forlorn hope, while Captain Morgan with his rifle- 
men, was to pass round the wharf on the ice. 

The false attack which was to have been made by Livingston on 
the gate of St. John by way of diversion, had not taken place ; 
there was nothing, therefore, to call off the attention of the enemy 
in this quarter from the detachment. The troops, as they strag- 
gled along in lengthened file through the drifting snow, were sadly 
galled by a flanking fire on the right, from wall and pickets. The 
field-piece at length became so deeply embedded in a snow-drift, 
that it could not be moved. Lamb sent word to Arnold of the 
impediment ; in the meantime, he and his artillery company were 
brought to a halt. The company with the scaling ladders would 
have halted also, having been told to keep in the rear of the artil- 
lery ; but they were urged on by Morgan wath a thundering oath, 
who pushed on after them with his riflemen, the artillery company 
opening to the right and left to let them pass. 

They arrived in the advance, just as Arnold w^as leading on his 
forlorn hope to attack the barrier. Before he reached it, a severe 
wound in the right leg with a musket-ball completely disabled him, 
and he had to be borne from the field. Morgan instantly took 
command. Just then Lamb came up with his company, armed 
with muskets and bayonets, having received orders to abandon the 
field-piece, and support the advance. The battery which com- 
manded the defile mounted two pieces of cannon. There was a 
discharge of grape-shot when the assailants w^ere close under the 
muzzles of the guns, yet but one man was killed. Before there 
could be a second discharge, the battery was carried by assault, 
some firing into the embrasures, others scaling the walls. The 
captain and thirty of his men were taken prisoners. 

The day was just dawning as Morgan led on to attack the second 
barrier, and his men had to advance under a fire from the town 
walls on their right, which incessantly thinned their ranks. The 
second barrier was reached ; they apphed their scahng ladders to 
storm it. The defence was brave and obstinate, but the defenders 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 197 

were at length driven from their guns, and the battery was gained. 
At the last moment one of the gunners ran back, linstock in hand, 
to give one more shot. Captain Lamb snapped a fusee at him. 
It missed fire. The cannon was discharged, and a grape-shot 
wounded Lamb in the head, carrying away part of the cheek-bone. 
He was borne off senseless, to a neighboring shed. 

The two barriers being now taken, the way on this side into the 
lower town seemed open. Morgan prepared to enter it with the 
victorious vanguard, first stationing Captain Dearborn and some 
provincials at Palace Gate, which opened down into the defile 
from the upper town. By this time, however, the death of Mont- 
gomery and retreat of Campbell had enabled the enemy to turn 
all their attention in this direction. A large detachment sent by 
General Carleton, sallied out of Palace Gate after Tslorgan had 
passed it, surprised and captured Dearborn and the guard, and 
completely cut off the advanced party. The main body, informed 
of the death of Montgomery, and giving up the game as lost, 
retreated to the camp, leaving behind the field-piece which Lamb's 
company had abandoned, and the mortars in the batter}' of St. 
Roque. 

Morgan and his men were now hemmed in on all sides, and 
obliged to take refuge in a stone house from the inveterate fire 
which assailed them. From the windows they kept up a desperate 
defence, until cannon were brought to bear upon it. Then hear- 
ing of the death of Montgomery, and seeing there was no prospect 
of relief, Morgan and his gallant handful of followers were com- 
pelled to surrender themselves prisoners of war. 

Thus foiled at every point, the ^^Tecks of the little army aban- 
doned their camp, and retreated about three miles from the town ; 
where they hastily fortified themselves, apprehending a pursuit by 
the garrison. General Carleton, however, contented himself with 
having secured the safety of the place, and remained cautiously 
passive until he should be properly reinforced, distrusting the 
good faith of the motley inhabitants. He is said to have treated 
the prisoners with a humanity the more honorable, considering the 
•' habitual military severity of his temper " ; their heroic daring, 



198 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

displayed in the assault upon the lower town, having excited his 
admiration. 

The remains of the gallant Montgomery received a soldier's 
grave, within the fortifications of Quebec. Arnold, wounded and 
disabled, had been assisted back to the camp, dragging one foot 
after the other for nearly a mile in great agony, and exposed con- 
tinually to the musketry from the walls at fifty yards' distance, 
which shot down several at his side. He took temporary command 
of the shattered army, until General Wooster should arrive from 
Montreal, to whom he sent an express, urging him to bring on 
succor. "On this occasion," says a contemporary writer, "he 
discovered the utmost vigor of a determined mind, and a genius 
full of resources. Defeated and wounded, as he was, he put his 
troops into such a situation as to keep them still formidable. 
With a mere handful of men, at one time not exceeding five hun- 
dred, he maintained a blockade of the strong fortress from which 
he had just been repulsed." " I have no thoughts," writes he, " of 
leaving this proud town until I enter it in triumph. / am in the 
way of my duty, and I know no fear .'"'^ 

Happy for him had he fallen at this moment. Happy for him 
had he found a soldier's and a patriot's grave, beneath the rock- 
built walls of Quebec. Those walls would have remained endur- 
ing monuments of his renown. His name, like that of Montgomery, 
would have been treasured up among the dearest recollections of 
his country, and that country would have been spared the traitorous 
blot that dims the bright page of its revolutionary history. 

The British driven from Boston. — The siege of Boston con- 
tinued through the winter, without any striking incident to enliven 
its monotony. The British remained within their works, leaving 
the beleaguering army slowly to augment its forces. The country 
was dissatisfied with the inaction of the latter. Congress was 
anxious for some successful blow that might revive popular enthu- 
siasm. Washington shared this anxiety, and had repeatedly, in 
councils of war, suggested an attack upon the town, but had found 
a majority of his general officers opposed to it. He had hoped 
some favorable opportunity would present, when, the harbor being 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS, 199 

frozen, the troops might approach the town upon the ice. The 
winter, however, though severe at first, proved a mild one, and the 
bay continued open. A cannonade and bombardment were con- 
sidered advisable, as soon as there should be a sufficiency of pow- 
der; in the meantime, preparations might be made for taking 
possession of Dorchester Heights, and Noddle's Island. 

At length the camp was rejoiced by the arrival of Colonel Knox, 
with his long train of sledges drawn by oxen all the way from 
Ticonderoga, bringing more than fifty cannon, mortars, and howit- 
zers, beside supplies of lead and flints. The zeal and perseverance 
which he had displayed in his wintry expedition across frozen 
lakes and snowy wastes, and the intelligence with which he had 
fulfilled his instructions, won him the entire confidence of Wash- 
ington. His conduct in this enterprise was but an earnest of that 
energy and ability which he displayed throughout the war. Fur- 
ther ammunition being received from the royal arsenal at New 
York, and other quarters, and a reinforcement of ten regiments of 
militia, Washington no longer met with opposition to his warlike 
measures. Lechmere Point, which Putnam had fortified, was 
immediately to be supplied with mortars and heavy cannon, so as 
to command Boston on the north ; and Dorchester Heights, on 
the south of the town, were forthwith to be taken possession of 
" If anything," said Washington, " will induce the enemy to hazard 
an engagement, it will be our attempting to fortify those heights, 
as, in that event taking place, we shall be able to command a great 
part of the town, and almost the whole harbor." Their possession, 
moreover, would enable him to push his works to Nook's Hill, 
and other points opposite Boston, whence a cannonade and bom- 
bardment must drive the enemy from the city. The council of 
Massachusetts, at his request, ordered the, militia of the towns 
contiguous to Dorchester and Roxbury, to hold themselves in 
readiness to repair to the lines at those places with arms, ammu- 
nition, and accoutrements, on receiving a preconcerted signal. 

Washington felt painfully aware how much depended upon the 
success of this attempt. There was a cloud of gloom and distrust 
lowering upon the public mind. Danger threatened on the north 



200 IJFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and on the south. Montgomery had fallen before the walls of 
Quebec. The army in Canada was shattered. Tryon and the 
Tories were plotting mischief in New York. Dunmore was harass- 
ing the lower part of Virginia, and Clinton and his fleet were 
prowling along the coast, on a secret errand of mischief. 

In the general plan it was concerted that, should the enemy 
detach a large force to dislodge our men from Dorchester Heights 
as had been done in the affair of Bunker Hill, an attack upon 
tha opposite side of the town should forthwith be made by Put- 
nam. For this purpose he was to have four thousand picked men 
in readiness, in two divisions, under Sullivan and Greene. At a 
concerted signal from Roxbury, they were to embark in boats near 
the mouth of Charles river, cross under cover of the fire of three 
floating batteries, land in two places in Boston, secure its strong 
posts, force the gates and works at the Neck, and let in the Rox- 
bury troops. 

The evening of Monday, the 4th of March, was fixed upon for 
the occupation of Dorchester Heights. The ground was frozen 
too hard to be easily entrenched ; fascines, therefore, and gabions, 
and bundles of screwed hay, were collected during the two pre- 
ceding nights, with which to form breastworks and redoubts. 
During these two busy nights the enemy's batteries were can- 
nonaded from opposite points, to occupy their attention. They 
replied with spirit, and the incessant roar of artillery covered com- 
pletely the rumbling of wagons and ordnance. 

On Monday evening as soon as the firing commenced, a strong 
detachment under General Thomas set out on its cautious march 
from the lines of Roxbury and Dorchester. Everything was con- 
ducted as quietly as possible. A covering party of eight hundred 
men preceded the carts with the entrenching tools ; then came 
General Thomas with the working party, twelve hundred strong, 
followed by a train of three hundred wagons, laden with fascines, 
gabions, and hay screwed into bundles of seven or eight hundred 
weight. A great number of such bundles were ranged in a line 
along Dorchester Neck on the side next the enemy, to protect the 
troops, while passing, from being raked by the fire of the enemy. 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 201 

Fortunately, although the moon was shining in its full lustre, the 
flash and roar of cannonry from opposite points, and the bursting 
of bombshells high in the air, so engaged and diverted the atten- 
tion of the enemy, that the detachment reached the heights about 
eight o'clock, without being heard or perceived. The covering 
party then divided ; one half proceeded to the point nearest Bos- 
ton, the other to the one nearest to Castle Wilham. The working 
party began to fortify, under the directions of Gridley, the veteran 
engineer who had planned the works on Bunker Hill. It was severe 
labor, for the earth was frozen eighteen inches deep ;• but the men 
worked with more than their usual spirit, for the eye of the com- 
mander-in-chief was upon them. Though not called there by his 
duties, Washington could not be absent from this eventful opera- 
tion. When a rehef party arrived at four o'clock in the morning, 
two forts were in sufficient forwardness to furnish protection against 
small-arms and grape-shot ; and such use was made of the fascines 
and bundles of screwed hay, that, at dawn, a formidable-looking 
fortress frowned along the height. " This morning at daybreak," 
writes a British officer, " we discovered two redoubts on Dorchester 
Point, and two smaller ones on their flanks. They were aU raised 
during the last night, with an expedition equal to that of the genii 
belonging to Aladdin's wonderful lamp. From these hills they 
command the whole town, so that we must drive them from their 
post, or desert the place." 

Howe gazed at the mushroom fortress with astonishment, as it 
loomed indistinctly, but grandly, through a morning fog. " The 
rebels," exclaimed he, " have done more work in one night, than 
my whole army would have done in one month." 

Washington watched, with intense anxiety, the effect of the 
revelation at daybreak. "When the enemy first discovered our 
works in the morning," writes he, " they seemed to be in great 
confusion, and from their movements, to intend an attack." Gen- 
eral Thomas was reinforced with two thousand men. Putnam 
stood ready to make a descent upon the north side of the town, 
with his four thousand picked men. as soon as the heights on the 
south should be assailed : " Ah the forenoon," says an American 



202 LIFE OF WASHTNGTON. 

eye-witness, " we were in momentary expectation of witnessing an 
awful scene ; nothing less than the carnage of Breed's Hill battle 
was expected." As Washington rode about the heights, he re- 
minded the troops that it was the 5 th of March, the anniversary of 
the Boston massacre, and called on them to revenge the slaughter 
of their brethren. They answered him with shouts. " Our officers 
and men," writes he, " appeared impatient for the appeal. The 
event, I think, must have been fortunate ; nothing less than suc- 
cess and victory on our side." 

Howe, in the meantime, was perplexed between his pride and 
the hazards of his position. In his letters to the ministry, he had 
scouted the idea of " being in danger from the rebels." He had 
'' hoped they would attack him." Apparently they were about to 
fulfil his hopes, and with formidable advantages of position. He 
must dislodge them from Dorchester Heights, or evacuate Boston. 
The latter was an alternative too mortifying to be readily adopted. 
He resolved on an attack, but it was to be a night one. Twenty- 
five hundred men under Lprd Percy were embarked in transports, 
which were to convey them to the rendezvous at Castle William. 
A violent storm set in from the east. The transports could not 
reach their place of destination. The men-of-war could not cover 
and support them. A furious surf beat on the shore where the 
boats would have to land. The attack was consequently post- 
poned until the following day, which turned out equally unpro- 
pitious. The storm continued with torrents of rain, and mean- 
while the Americans went on strengthening their works until Gen- 
eral Howe deemed them too strong to be carried. 

What was to be done? The shells thrown from the heights into 
the town proved that it was no longer tenable. The fleet was 
equally exposed. It was determined, therefore, in a council of 
war, to evacuate Boston as soon as possible. But now came on a 
humiliating perplexity. 'J'he troops, in embarking, would be ex- 
posed to a destructive fire. How was this to be prevented? 
Oeneral Howe endeavored to work on the fears of the Bostonians, 
by hinting that if his troops were molested while embarking, he 
might be obliged to cover their retreat, by setting fire to the town. 



PREIJMTNARY CAMPAIGNS. 203 

The hint had its effect. Several of the principal inhabitants 
communicated with him, and a paper was concocted and signed 
by the selectmen, stating the fears they had entertained of the 
destruction of the town, but that those fears had been quieted by 
General Howe's declaration that it should remain uninjured, pro- 
vided his troops were unmolested while embarking; the select- 
men, therefore, begged " some assurance that so dreadful a calam- 
ity might not be brought on, by any measures from without." 

This paper was sent out from Boston, on the evening of the 8th, 
with a flag of truce, which bore it to the American lines at Rox- 
l)ury. There it was received by Colonel Learned, and carried to 
head-quarters. Washington consulted with such of the general 
officers as he could immediately assemble. The paper was not 
addressed to him, nor to any one else. It was not authenticated 
by the signature of General Howe ; nor was there any other act 
obliging that commander to fulfil the promise asserted to have 
been made by him. It was deemed proper, therefore, that Wash- 
ington should give no answer to the i)aper ; l)ut that Colonel 
Learned should signify in a letter his having laid it before the 
commander-in-chief and the reasons assigned for not answering it. 

With this uncompromising letter, the flag returned to Boston. 
The Americans suspended their fire, but continued to fortify their 
positions. Daily preparations were made by the enemy for de- 
j)arture. By proclamation, the inhabitants were ordered to de- 
liver up all linen and woollen goods, and all other goods, that, in 
possession of the rebels, would aid them in carrying on the war. 
Crean Bush, a New York Tory, was authorized to take possession 
of such goods, and put them on board of two of the transports. 
Under cover of his commission, he and his myrmidons broke open 
stores, and stripped them of their contents. Marauding gangs 
from the fleet and army followed their example, and extended 
their depredations to private houses. On the 14th, Howe, in a 
general order, declared that the first soldier caught plundering 
should be hanged on the spot. vStill on the i6th houses were 
broken open, goods destroyed, and furniture defaced by the 
troops. 



204 UFE OF WASHINGTON. 

For some days the embarkation was delayed by adverse winds. 
Washington, who was imperfectly informed of affairs in Boston, 
feared that the movements there might be a feint. Determined to 
bring things to a crisis, he detached a force to Nook's Hill on 
Saturday, the sixteenth, which threw up a breastwork in the night 
regardless of the cannonading of the enemy. This commanded 
Boston Neck, and the south part of the town, and a deserter 
brought a false report to the British that a general assault was 
intended. The embarkation, so long delayed, began with hurry 
and confusion at four o'clock in the morning. The harbor of 
Boston soon presented a striking and tumultuous scene. There 
were seventy-eight ships and transports casting loose for sea, and 
eleven or twelve thousand men, soldiers, sailors, and refugees, hur- 
rying to embark ; many, especially of the latter, with their families 
and personal effects. By ten o'clock, the enemy were all em- 
barked and under way ; Putnam had taken command of the city, 
and occupied the important points, and the flag of thirteen stripes, 
the standard of the Union floated above all the forts. To add to 
the mortification of General Howe, he received, while sailing out 
of the harbor, dispatches from the ministry, approving the resolu- 
tion he had strenuously expressed of maintaining his post until he 
should receive reinforcements. 

The eminent services of Washington throughout this arduous 
siege, his admirable management, by which, " in the course of a 
few months, an undisciplined band of husbandmen became soldiers, 
and were enabled to invest, for nearly a year, and finally to expel 
a brave army of veterans, commanded by the most experienced 
generals," drew forth the enthusiastic applause of the nation. On 
motion of John Adams, who had first moved his nomination as 
commander-in-chief, a unanimous vote of thanks to him was 
passed in Congress ; and it was ordered that a gold medal be 
struck, commemorating the evacuation of Boston, bearing the effigy 
of Washington as its deliverer. 

Retreat from Canada. — We left Arnold before the walls of 
Quebec, defeated and wounded, yet not disheartened. With a 
force less than half the number of the garrison he kept up the 



PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS. 205 

siege throughout the entire winter. For his gallant services Con- 
gress promoted him in January to the rank of brigadier-general. 
In May, still suffering from his wound, he took command at Mon- 
treal, while the operations at Quebec were carried on by General 
Thomas. The golden opportunity for capturing the citadel of 
Canada had, however, passed away. So many fresh troops arrived 
from England and Germany that Carleton was able to assume the 
offensive with an army of thirteen thousand men. Against such 
overwhelming numbers the Americans could not make a stand ; 
the retreat was ably conducted by General Sullivan, who took the 
command after the death of Thomas by small-pox ; and by the 
end of June the Americans had withdrawn to Ticonderoga and 
Crown Point. The New England people were very hostile to Gene- 
ral Schuyler because he supported the claim of New York to jurisdic- 
tion over the Green Mountain country. It was now sought to lay 
upon him the blame for the failure of the invasion of Canada, on 
the ground that he had not properly supported the generals who 
conducted it. The absurd charge was summarily refuted, but a 
miserable set of intrigues was now begun against Schuyler, which 
did not end until he was driven from the army. Foremost among 
the intriguers was Gates, who had lately been made major-general 
and placed in command of Ticonderoga. By flattering the preju- 
dices of the New Englanders, he became very popular in that 
part of the country ; and he worked zealously and insidiously to 
effect the ruin of the noble Schuyler. The fortunes of Arnold also 
were by and by dragged into the meshes of these intrigues ; for as 
the steadfast friend of Schuyler he incurred the bitter enmity of 
Gates and his party in Congress. 

Declaration of Independence. — During the winter and spring 
of 1776 the feehng in favor of an entire separation from Great 
Britain grew stronger and stronger. Perhaps no act of the British 
government went further to strengthen it than the hiring of foreign 
troops from Germany to fight against its own subjects in America. 
Massachusetts had for some time been ripe for independence, hav- 
ing formed a new government for herself in the summer of 1775. 
In the winter there was civil war between Whigs and Tories in North 



206 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Carolina^ in which the Tories were comj^letely defeated. In Vir- 
ginia, also, there was an outbreak of war in which the Tories were 
worsted, and the royal governor, Lord Dunmore, was driven to 
take refuge on the British fleet. Dunmore sought to avenge him- 
self by bombarding and completely destroying Norfolk, then the 
principal town in Virginia, with nine thousand inhabitants. This act 
went far toward determining the attitude of Virginia, and in May, 
1776, her delegates in Congress were instructed to move that the 
thirteen colonies should be declared free and independent states. 
The motion was made on the 7th of June by Richard Henry Lee, 
and seconded by John Adams. Action was postponed for three 
weeks to take the sense of the middle colonies, where parties were 
more evenly balanced. 

Pennsylvania, Maryland, and South Carolina were not in favor 
of the declaration, but joined in it on the ground that it was neces- 
sary for all the colonies to act together. New York hesitated as 
to what line of conduct to pursue. Mr. Lee's motion w^as at last 
carried unanimously by twelve states on the 2d of July ; and on 
the 4th the Declaration of Independence, drafted by Thomas 
Jefferson, was formally adopted. On the 9th of July the state of 
New York concurred in adopting it. 

Battle of Fort Moultrie. — While these things were going on. 
Sir Henry Clinton was aiming at the conquest of South Carolina. 
He had started in the winter with a small fleet, before the British 
had been driven from Boston, and had sailed for Albemarle Sound, 
hoping to assist the Tories in North Carolina and secure that state 
for the king. Sir Peter Parker's fleet was to come over from the 
coasts of Ireland and co-operate with him ; but the scheme failed. 
The North Carolina Tories were crushed, and Parker was delayed 
until May, when he arrived in Albemarle Sound, bringing with him 
Lord Cornwallis, This very able general was now in his thirty- 
eighth year, and had served in Germany in the Seven Years' War. 
He had now reached the grade of lieutenant-general, and was re- 
garded as one of the best officers in the British service, as he was 
one of the most honorable and high-minded public ser\'ants Eng- 
land has ever had. After the close of our Revolutionary War he 



FII^Sl^ GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN, 207 

served with great distinction as governor-general of India, reached 
the grade of held- marshal, the highest in the British army, was 
made a knight of the garter and raised in the peerage to a mar(|ui- 
sate. In our Revolutionary War he played the most important 
part among the British generals, though he did not hold the chief 
command. It is worthy of note that, like General Howe, he felt 
great sympathy for the Americans, and disapproved of the harsh 
measures of the British government which had driven them to re- 
bellion. 

On the arrival of Parker's fleet it was decided to capture the city 
of Charleston and overrun South CaroHna. To ward off the blow 
General Charles Lee had been sent to Charleston, but did little 
more than to meddle and hinder. He laughed loudly at a fortress 
of palmetto logs which Colonel William Moultrie built on Sullivan's 
Island and manned with twelve hundred troops. Lee had never 
seen anything of the sort in Europe, and would have ordered 
Moultrie to dismantle and abandon it, but Governor Rutledge 
overruled him. On the 28th of June a furious attack was made 
by the fleet, and kept up for ten hours, but the palmetto fort was 
victorious. At the end of the fight only one of its guns had been 
dismounted, while the British ships were badly cut up, and several 
of them rendered quite unseaworthy. Clinton then sailed away 
to take part in the operations around New York, and the southern 
states were left unmolested for two years. By many of the people, 
especially at the North, Lee got all the credit for this brilliant 
victory, and his reputation was much increased thereby. 

§ 5. First Great Defensive Campaign. 

Arrival of Lord Howe. — When General Howe was driven from 
Boston, he steered for Halifax, there to await the arrival of rein- 
forcements from England, and the fleet of his brother Richard, 
Earl Howe, who had been appointed admiral of the fleet for North 
America, and commissioner to arrange matters peaceably, if i:)Ossi- 
ble, and prevent the further continuance of the war. The two 
brothers were widely different in their habits and dispositions. 



208 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

William was easy and indolent ; Richard was energetic and enter- 
prising. His name ranks high in the list of England's great sailors. 
He was a skilful seaman and brave commander, and his men used 
to say of him, " Give us Black Dick, and we fear nothing." 

Lord Howe arrived in New York harbor on the 12th of July. 
His brother had arrived a few days before, with twenty-five thous- 
and troops, whose white tents might now be seen dotted about 
over the picturesque hills of Staten Island. It had been expected 
that New York would be the first point to be attacked by the Brit- 
ish, and Washington had moved his army thither from Boston early 
in April. Fortifications had been erected by Lee, and the Ameri- 
can troops, some eighteen thousand in number, were guarding as 
well as they could the exposed water front of New York Island. 
On the Hudson river there were garrisons at Forts Washington 
and Lee, and at Paulus Hook, now known as Jersey City. From 
across the East river the heights of Brooklyn commanded New 
York, just as Dorchester Heights commanded Boston, and here 
nine thousand men were posted under Putnam. General Howe 
decided to strike at this point, and disperse or capture this force. 

Battle of Long Island. — The village of Brooklyn stood on a 
kind of peninsula, formed by the deep inlets of Wallabout Bay on 
the north, and Gowanus Cove on the south. A line of entrench- 
ments and strong redoubts extended across the neck of the penin- 
sula, from the bay to a swamp and creek emptying into the cove. 
To protect the rear of the works from the enemy's ships, a battery 
was erected at Red Hook, the southwest corner of the peninsula, 
and a fort on Governor's Island, nearly opposite. About two 
miles and a half in front of the line of entrenchments, a range of 
hills, densely wooded, extended from southwest to northeast, form- 
ing a natural barrier across the island. It was traversed by three 
roads. One, on the left of the works, stretched eastwardly to 
Bedford, and then by a pass through the Bedford Hills to the 
village of Jamaica ; another, central and direct, led through the 
woody heights to Flatbush ; a third, on the right of the lines, 
passed by Gowanus Cove to the Narrows and Gravesend Bay. 
The occupation of this range of hills, and the protection of its 
passes, was entrusted to General Sullivan. 




BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND 

ffr,m Suinums History irf American War/ 



To fati page 209. 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 209 

From the 2 2d to the 25th of August, General Howe sent twenty 
thousand men over to Long Island, where they landed at Graves- 
end Bay and prepared to attack the American position. Sir Henry 
Clinton, with the vanguard, composed of the choicest troops, was 
by a circuitous march in the night, to throw himself into the road 
leading from Jamaica to Bedford, seize upon a pass through the 
Bedford Hills, within three miles of that village, and thus turn the 
left of the American advanced posts. 

To divert the attention of the Americans from this stealthy 
march on their left, General Grant was to menace their right flank 
toward Gravesend before daybreak, and General von Heister to 
cannonade their centre, where Colonel Hand was stationed. Nei- 
ther, however, was to press an attack until the guns of Sir Henry 
Clinton should give notice that he had effected his purpose, and 
turned the left flank of the Americans ; then the latter were to be 
assailed at all points with the utmost vigor. 

About nine o'clock in the evening of the 26th, Sir Henry CHn- 
ton began his march from Flatlands with the vanguard, composed 
of light infantry. Lord Percy followed with the grenadiers, artil- 
lery, and light dragoons, forming the centre. Lord Cornwallis 
brought up the rear-guard with the heavy ordnance. General 
Howe accompanied this division. 

It was a silent march, without beat of drum or sound of trumpet, 
under guidance of a Long Island Tory, along by-roads traversing a 
swamp by a narrow causeway, and so across the country to the 
Jamaica road. About two hours before daybreak, they arrived 
within half a mile of the pass through the Bedford Hills, and halted 
to prepare for an attack. At this juncture they captured an Amer- 
ican patrol, and learnt, to their surprise, that the Bedford pass was 
unoccupied. In fact, the whole road beyond Bedford, leading to 
Jamaica, was left unguarded, excepting by some light volunteer 
troops. Colonels Williams and Miles, who were stationed to the 
left of Colonel Hand, among the wooded hills, had been instructed 
to send out parties occasionally to patrol the road, but no troops 
had been stationed at the Bedford pass. The road and pass may 
have been thought too far out of the way to need special precau- 



210 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

tion. The neglect of them, however, proved fatal. Sir Henry 
Clinton immediately detached a battalion of light-infantry to secure 
the pass ; and, advancing with his corps at the first break of day, 
possessed himself of the heights. He was now within three miles 
of Bedford, and his march had been undiscovered. Having 
passed the heights, therefore, he halted his division for the soldiers 
to take some refreshment, preparatory to the morning's hostilities. 
About midnight General Grant moved from Gravesend Bay, 
with the left wing. He proceeded along the road leading past the 
Narrows and Gowanus Cove, toward the right of the American 
works. A picket guard of Pennsylvanian and New York militia, 
under Colonel Atlee, retired before him fighting to a position 
on the skirts of the wooded hills. In the meantime, scouts had 
brought in word to the American hues that the enemy were ap- 
proaching in force upon the right. General Putnam ordered Lord 
Stirling^ to hasten with the two regiments nearest at hand, and 
hold them in check. These were Haslet's Delaware, and Small- 
wood's Maryland regiments ; the latter the macaronis, in scarlet 
and buff, who quite outshone their yeoman fellow-soldiers in home- 
spun. They turned out with great alacrity, and Stirling pushed 
forward with them on the road toward the Narrows. By the time 
he had passed Gowanus Cove, daylight began to appear. Here, 
on a rising ground, he met Colonel Atlee with his Pennsylvania 
provincials, and learned that the enemy were near. Indeed, their 
front began to appear in the uncertain twilight. Stirling ordered 
Atlee to place himself in ambush in an orchard on the left of the 
road, and await their coming up, while he formed the Delaware 
and Maryland regiments along a ridge from the road, up to a piece 
of woods on the top of the hill. Atlee gave the enemy two or 
three volleys as they approached, and then retreated and formed 
in the wood on Lord Stirling's left. By this time his lordship was 
reinforced by Kichline's riflemen, part of whom he placed along a 
hedge at the foot of the hill, and part in front of the wood. Gen- 
eral Grant threw his light troops in the advance, and posted them 

1 William Alexander, of New Jersey, claimed the title to the lapsed earl- 
dom of Stirling, and was always called Lord Stirling by the Americans. 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 211 

in an orchard and behind hedges, extending in front of the Amer- 
icans, and about one hundred and fifty yards distant. 

It was now broad daylight. A rattling fire commenced between 
the British light troops and the American riflemen, which contin- 
ued for about two hours, when the former retired to their main 
body. In the meantime, Stirling's position had been strengthened 
by the arrival of Captain Carpenter with two field-pieces. These 
were placed on the side of the hill, so as to command the road 
and the approach for some hundred yards. General Grant, like- 
wise, brought up his artillery within three hundred yards, and 
formed his brigades on opposite hills, about six hundred yards 
distant. There was occasional cannonading on both sides, but 
neither party sought a general action. Lord Stirling's object was 
merely to hold the enemy in check ; and the instructions of Gen- 
eral Grant, as we have shown, were not to press an attack until 
aware that Sir Henry Clinton was on the left flank of the Amer- 
icans. 

During this time, Heister had commenced his part of the plan 
by opening a cannonade from his camp at Flatbush, upon the 
redoubt, at the pass of the wooded hills, where Hand and his rifle- 
men were stationed. On hearing this. General Sullivan rode forth 
to Colonel Hand's post to reconnoiter. Heister, however, accord- 
ing to the plan of operations, did not advance from Flatbush, but 
kept up a brisk fire from his artillery on the redoubt in front of 
the pass, which replied as briskly. At the same time, a cannonade 
from a British ship upon the battery at Red Hook contributed to 
distract the attention of the Americans. 

In the meantime terror reigned in New York. The volleying 
of musketry and booming of cannon at early dawn had told of 
the fighting that had commenced. As the morning advanced, 
platoon firing and the occasional discharge of a field-piece were 
heard in different directions. Washington was still in doubt 
whether this was but part of a general attack, in which the city 
was to be included. Five ships of the line were endeavoring to 
beat up the bay. Were they to cannonade the city, or to land 
troops above it? Fortunately, a strong head- wind baffled all their 



212 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

efforts ; but one vessel, of inferior force, got up far enough to open 
the fire already mentioned upon the fort at Red Hook. Seeing 
no likelihood of an immediate attack upon the city, Washington 
hastened over to Brooklyn in his barge, and galloped up to the 
works. He arrived there in time to witness the catastrophe for 
which all the movements of the enemy had been concerted. 

The thundering of artillery in the direction of Bedford had 
given notice that Sir Henry had turned the left of the Americans. 
Heister immediately ordered Count Donop to advance with his 
Hessian regiment, and storm the redoubt, while he followed with 
his whole division. Sullivan did not remain to defend the redoubt. 
Sir Henry's cannon had apprised him of the fatal truth, that his 
flank was turned, and he in danger of being surrounded. He 
ordered a retreat to the lines, but it was already too late. Scarce 
had he descended from the height, and emerged into the plain, 
when he was met by the British light-infantry, and dragoons, and 
driven back into the woods. By this time Heister and his Hes- 
sians had come up, and now commenced a scene of confusion, 
consternation, and slaughter, in which the troops under Williams 
and Miles were involved. Hemmed in and entrapped between 
the British and Hessians, and driven from one to the other, the 
Americans fought for a time bravely, or rather desperately. Some 
were cut down and trampled by the cavalry, others bayoneted 
without mercy by the Hessians. Some rallied in groups, and 
made a brief stand with their rifles from rocks or behind trees. 
The whole pass was a scene of carnage, resounding with the clash 
of arms, the tramp of horses, the volleying of fire-arms, and the 
cries of the combatants, with now and then the dreary braying of 
the trumpet. At length some of the Americans, by a desperate 
effort, cut their way through the host of foes, and eflected a re- 
treat to the lines, fighting as they went. Others took refuge 
among the woods and fastnesses of the hills, but a great part were 
either killed or taken prisoners. Among the latter was General 
Sullivan. 

Washington arrived in time to witness this catastrophe, but was 
unable to prevent it. He had heard the din of the battle in the 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 213 

woods, and seen the smoke rising from among the trees ; but a 
deep column of the enemy was descending from the hills on the 
left ; his choicest troops were all in action, and he had none but 
militia to man the works. His solicitude was now awakened for 
the safety of Lord Stirling and his corps, who had been all the 
morning exchanging cannonades with General Grant. Washington 
saw the danger to which these brave fellows were exposed, though 
they could not. Stationed on a hill within the lines, he com- 
manded, with his telescope, a view of the whole field, and saw the 
enemy's reserve, under Cornwallis, marching down by a cross-road 
to get in their rear, and thus place them between two fires. With 
breathless anxiety he watched the result. 

The sound of Clinton's cannon apprised Stirling that the enemy 
was between him and the Hues. Grant, too, aware that the time 
had come for earnest action, was closing up, and had already taken 
Colonel Atlee prisoner. His lordship now thought to effect a cir- 
cuitous retreat to the lines, by crossing the creek which empties 
into Gowanus Cove, near what was called the Yellow Mills. There 
was a bridge and milldam, and the creek might be forded at low 
water, but no time was to be lost, for the tide was rising. Leaving 
part of his men to keep face towards General Grant, Stirling ad- 
vanced with the rest to pass the creek, but was suddenly checked 
by the appearance of Cornwallis and his grenadiers. 

Washington, and some of his officers on the hill, who watched 
every movement, had supposed that Stirling and his troops, finding 
the case desperate, would surrender in a body, without firing. On 
the contrary, his lordship boldly attacked Cornwallis with half of 
Smallwood's battalion, while the rest of his troops retreated across 
the creek. It was a desperate fight ; and now Smallwood's maca- 
ronis showed their game spirit. They were repeatedly broken, but 
as often rallied, and renewed the fight. " We were on the point 
of driving Lord Cornwallis from his station," writes Lord Stirling, 
" but large reinforcements arriving, rendered it impossible to do 
more than provide for safety." 

" Being thus surrounded," writes a Maryland officer, " his lord- 
ship ordered me to retreat with the remaining part of our men, and 



214 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

force our way to our camp. We soon fell in with a party of the 
enemy, who clubbed their fire-locks, and waved their hats to us as 
if they meant to surrender as prisoners ; but on our advancing 
within sixty yards, they presented their pieces and fired, which we 
returned with so much warmth that they soon quitted their post, 
and retired to a large body that was lying in ambuscade." 

The enemy rallied, and returned to the combat with additional 
force. Only five companies of Smallwood's battalion were now in 
action. There was a warm and close engagement for nearly ten 
minutes. Broken and disordered, the Americans rallied in a piece 
of woods, and made a second attack. They were again overpowered 
with numbers. Some were surrounded and bayoneted in a field 
of Indian corn ; others joined their comrades who were retreating 
across a marsh. Lord Stirling had encouraged and animated his 
young soldiers by his voice and example, but when all was lost, he 
sought out General von Heister, and surrendered himself as his 
prisoner. 

More than two hundred and fifty brave fellows, most of them of 
Smallwood's regiment, perished in this deadly struggle, within sight 
of the lines of Brooklyn. That part of the Delaware troops who 
had first crossed the creek and swamp, made good their retreat to 
the lines with a trifling loss, and entered the camp covered with 
mud and drenched with water, but bringing with them twenty-three 
prisoners, and their standard tattered by grape-shot. 

The enemy now concentrated their forces within a few hundred 
yards of the redoubts. The grenadiers were within musket shot. 
Washington expected they would storm the works, and prepared 
for a desperate defence, but the British commander was unwilHng 
to risk the loss of life that must attend an assault, when the object 
might be attained at a cheaper rate by regular approaches. Check- 
ing the ardor of his men, therefore, he drew them off to a hollow 
way, in front of the lines, but out of reach of the musketry, and 
encamped there for the night. 

The loss of the Americans in this disastrous battle has been 
variously stated, but is thought, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, 
to have been nearly two thousand ; a large number, considering 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 215 

that not above five thousand were engaged. The enemy acknowl- 
edged a loss of three hundred and eighty killed and wounded. 

The success of the enemy was attributed, in some measure, to 
the doubt in which Washington was kept as to the nature of the 
intended attack, and at what point it would chiefly be made. This 
obliged him to keep a great part of his forces in New York, and to 
distribute those at Brooklyn over a wide extent of country, and at 
widely distant places. In fact, he knew not the superior number 
of the enemy encamped on Long Island, a majority of them having 
been furtively landed in the night, some days after the debarkation 
of the first division. 

The fatal error, however, consisted in leaving the passes through 
the wooded hills too weakly fortified and guarded ; and especially 
in neglecting the eastern road, by which Sir Henry Clinton got in 
the rear of the advanced troops, cut them off from the lines, and 
subjected them to a cross-fire of his own men and Heister's 
Hessians. 

This scheme of the enemy might have been thwarted, had the 
army been provided with a few troops of light horse, to serve as 
videttes. With these to scour the roads and bring intelligence, the 
night march of Sir Henry Clinton, so decisive of the fortunes of 
the day, could hardly have failed to be discovered and reported. 

Retreat from Long^ Island. — The night after the battle was 
a weary yet almost sleepless one to the Americans. Fatigued, dis- 
pirited, many of them sick and wounded, yet they were, for the 
most part, without tent or other shelter. To Washington it was a 
night of anxious vigil. Everything boded a close and deadly 
conflict. The enemy had pitched a number of tents about a mile 
distant. Their sentries were but a quarter of a mile off, and close 
to the American sentries. At four o'clock in the morning, Wash- 
ington went the round of the works, to see that all was right, and 
to speak words of encouragement. The morning broke lowering 
and dreary. Large encampments were gradually descried ; to ap- 
pearance, the enemy were twenty thousand strong. As the day 
advanced, their ordnance began to play upon the works. They 
were proceeding to entrench themselves, but were driven into their 
tents by a drenching rain. 



216 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

Early in the morning General Mifflin arrived in camp, with part 
of the troops which had been stationed at Fort Washington and 
King's Bridge. He brought with him Shee's prime Philadelphia 
regiment, and Magaw's Pennsylvania regiment, both well disci- 
plined and officered, and accustomed to act together. They 
were so much reduced in number, however, by sickness, that 
they did not amount, in the whole, to more than eight hundred 
men. With Mifflin came also Colonel Glover's Massachusetts 
regiment, composed chiefly of Marblehead fishermen and sailors, 
hardy, adroit, and weather-proof; trimly clad in blue jackets 
and trousers. The detachment numbered, in the whole, about 
thirteen hundred men, all fresh and full of spirits. Every eye 
brightened as they marched briskly along the line with alert step 
and cheery aspect. They were posted at the left extremity of 
the entrenchments towards the Wallabout. 

There were skirmishes throughout the day, between the riflemen 
on the advanced posts and the British " irregulars," which at times 
were quite severe ; but no decided attack was attempted. The 
main body of the enemy kept within their tents until the latter 
part of the day ; when they began to break ground at about five 
hundred yards distance from the works, as if preparing to carry 
them by regular approaches. 

On the 29th, there was a dense fog over the island, that wrapped 
everything in mystery. In the course of the morning, General 
Mifflin, with Adjutant-general Reed, and Colonel Grayson of Vir- 
ginia, one of Washington's aides-de-camp, rode to the western 
outposts, in the neighborhood of Red Hook. While they were 
there, a light breeze lifted the fog from a part of the New York 
Bay, and revealed the British ships at their anchorage opposite 
Staten Island. There appeared to be an unusual bustle among 
them. Boats were passing to and from the admiral's ship, as if 
seeking or carrying orders. Some movement was apparently in 
agitation. The idea occurred to the reconnoitering party that the 
fleet was preparing, should the wind hold and the fog clear away, 
to come up the bay at the turn of the tide, silence the feeble bat- 
teries at Red Hook and the city, and anchor in the East river. 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 217 

In that case the army on Long Island would be completely sur- 
romided and entrapped. 

Alarmed at this perilous probability, they spurred back to head- 
quarters to urge the immediate withdrawal of the army. Wash- 
ington instantly summoned a council of war, and it was resolved 
to cross with the troops to the city that very night. Never did re- 
treat require greater secrecy and circumspection. Ten thousand 
men, with all the munitions of war, were to be withdrawn from 
before a victorious army, encamped so near that every stroke of 
spade and pickaxe from their trenches could be heard. The re- 
treating troops, moreover, were to be embarked and conveyed 
across a strait three-quarters of a mile wide, swept by rapid tides. 
The least alarm of their movement would bring the enemy upon 
them, and produce a terrible scene of confusion and carnage at 
the place of embarkation. 

Washington made the preparatory arrangements with great 
alertness, yet profound secrecy. Verbal orders were sent to Colo- 
nel Hughes, who acted as quartermaster-general, to impress all 
water craft, large and small, from Spyt den Duivel on the Hudson 
round to Hell Gate on the Sound, and have them on the east side 
of the city by evening. The order was issued at noon, and so 
promptly executed, that, although some of the vessels had to be 
brought a distance of fifteen miles, they were all at Brooklyn at 
eight o'clock in the evening, and put under the management of 
Colonel Glover's amphibious Marblehead regiment. 

To prepare the army for a general movement without betraying 
the object, orders were issued for the troops to hold themselves in 
readiness for a night attack upon the enemy. To keep the enemy 
from discovering the withdrawal of the Americans until their main 
body should have embarked in the boats and pushed off from the 
shore. General Mifflin was to remain at the lines with his Penn- 
sylvania troops, and the gallant remains of Haslet, Smallwood, and 
Hand's regiments, with guards posted and sentinels alert, as if 
nothing extraordinary was taking place ; when the main embarka- 
tion was effected, they were themselves to move off quietly, march 
briskly to the ferry, and embark. 



218 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

It was late in the evening wlien the troops began to retire from 
the breastworks. As one regiment quietly withdrew from their 
station on guard, the troops on the right and left moved up and 
filled the vacancy. There was a stifled murmur in the camp, un- 
avoidable in a movement of the kind ; but it gradually died away 
in the direction of the river, as the main body moved on in silence 
and order. The embarkation went on with all possible dispatch, 
under the vigilant eye of Washington, who stationed himself at the 
ferry, superintending every movement. In his anxiety for dis- 
patch, he sent back Colonel Scammel, one of his aides-de-camp, 
to hasten forward all the troops that were on the march. Scam- 
mel blundered in executing his errand, and gave the order to 
Mifflin likewise. The general instantly called in his pickets and 
sentinels, and set off for the ferry. By this time the tide had 
turned; there was a strong wind from the northeast; the boats 
with oars were insuflicient to convey the troops ; those with sails 
could not make headway against wind and tide. There was some 
confusion at the ferry, and in the midst of it. General Mifflin came 
down with the whole covering party, adding to the embarrassment 
and uproar. 

" Good God ! General Mifflin ! " cried Washington, " I am 
afraid you have ruined us by so unseasonably withdrawing the 
troops from the lines." 

" I did so by your order," replied Mifflin with some warmth. 

" It cannot be ! " exclaimed Washington. 

" By , I did ! " was the blunt rejoinder. " Did Scammel act 

as aide-de-camp for the day, or did he not?" 

" He did." 

"Then," said Mifflin, "I had orders through him." 

" It is a dreadful mistake," rejoined Washington, " and unless 
the troops can regain the lines before their absence is discovered 
by the enemy, the most disastrous consequences are to be appre- 
hended." 

Mifflin led back his men to the lines, which had been completely 
deserted for three-quarters of an hour. Fortunately, the dense fog 
had prevented the enemy from discovering that they were unoc- 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 219 

cupied. The men resumed their former posts, and remamed at 
them until called off to cross the ferry. 

The fog vvliich prevailed all this time, seemed almost providen- 
tial. While it hung over Long Island, and concealed the move- 
ments of the Americans, the atmosphere was clear on the New 
York side of the river. The adverse wind, too, died away; the 
river became so smooth that the row-boats could be laden almost 
to the gunwale, and a favoring breeze sprang up for the sail-boats. 
The whole embarkation of troops, artillery, ammunition, provisions, 
cattle, horses and carts, was happily effected, and by daybreak the 
greater part had safely reached the city, thanks to the aid of 
Glover's Marblehead men. Scarce anything was abandoned to the 
enemy, excepting a few heavy pieces of artillery. At a proper 
time, Mifflin with his covering party left the lines, and effected a 
silent retreat to the ferry. Washington, though repeatedly en- 
treated, refused to enter a boat until all the troops were embarked, 
and crossed the river with the last. 

A Long Island tradition tells how the British camp became 
aware of the march which had been stolen upon it. Near the 
ferry resided a Mrs. Rapelye, whose husband, suspected of favor- 
ing the enemy, had been removed to the interior of New Jersey. 
On seeing the embarkation of the first detachment, she, out of 
loyalty or revenge, sent off a black servant to inform the first 
British offtcer he could find of what was going on. The negro 
succeeded in passing the American sentinels, but arrived at a 
Hessian outpost, where he could not make himself understood, 
and was put under guard as a suspicious person. There he was 
kept until daybreak, when an officer visiting the post, examined 
him, and was astounded by his story. An alarm was given, the 
troops were called to arms ; Captain Montresor, aide-de-camp of 
General Howe, followed by a handful of men, climbed cautiously 
over the crest of the works and found them deserted. Advanced 
parties were hurried down to the ferry. The fog had cleared 
away, sufficiently for them to see the rear boats of the retreating 
army half-way across the river. One boat, still within musket shot, 
was compelled to return ; it was manned by three vagabonds, who 
had lingered behind to plunder. 



220 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

This extraordinary retreat was one of the most signal achieve- 
ments of the war, and redounded greatly to the reputation of 
Washington, who for forty-eight hours scarce closed his eyes, and 
was the greater part of the time on horseback. 

Lord Howe as Peacemaker. — The enemy had now possession 
of Long Island, but forbore to press further hostilities. Lord 
Howe sent off General Sullivan on parole, charged with an over- 
ture to Congress. In this he declared himself empowered and 
disposed to compromise the dispute between Great Britain and 
America, on the most favorable terms, and, though he could not 
treat with Congress as a legally organized body, he was desirous 
of a conference with some of its members. These, for the time 
he should consider only as private gentlemen, but if in the confer- 
ence any probable scheme of accommodation should be agreed 
upon, the authority of Congress would afterwards be acknowledged, 
to render the compact complete. 

The message caused some embarrassment in Congress. To 
accede to the interview might seem to waive the question of inde- 
pendence ; to decline it was to shut the door on all hope of con- 
ciHation, and might alienate the co-operation of some worthy Whigs 
who still clung to that hope. After much debate. Congress replied, 
that, being the representatives of the free and independent States 
of America, they could not send any members to confer with his 
lordship in their private characters, but that, ever desirous of 
establishing peace on reasonable terms, they would send a com- 
mittee of their body to ascertain what authority he had to treat 
with persons authorized by Congress, and what propositions he had 
to offer. 

A committee was chosen on the 6th of September, composed of 
John Adams, Edward Rutledge, and Dr. Franklin. The con- 
ference took place on the nth, at a house on Staten Island, op- 
posite to Amboy. There the committee found Lord Howe's barge 
waiting to receive them ; with a British officer of rank, who was to 
remain within the American lines during their absence, as a hostage. 
This guarantee of safety was promptly declined, and the parties 
crossed together to Staten Island. The admiral met them on their 
landing, and conducted them through his guards to his house. 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 221 

On opening the conference, his lordship again intimated that he 
could not treat with them as a committee of Congress, but only 
confer with them as private gentlemen of influence in the colonies 
on the means of restoring peace between the two countries. 

The commissioners replied that, as their business was to hear 
he might consider them in what hght he pleased; but that they 
should consider themselves in no other character than that in 
which they were placed by order of Congress. 

Lord Howe then entered into a discourse of considerable ^ngth, 
but made no explicit proposition of peace, nor promise of redress 
of grievances, excepting on condition that the colonies should 
return to their allegiance. 

This, the commissioners replied, was not now to be expected. 
Their repeated humble petitions to the king and Parliament hav- 
ing been treated with contempt, and answered by additional 
injuries, and war having been declared against them, the colonies 
had declared their independence, and it was not in the power of 
Congress to agree for them that they should return to their former 
dependent state. 

His lordship expressed his sorrow that no accommodation was 
likely to take place ; and, on breaking up the conference, assured 
his old friend. Dr. Franklin, that he should suffer great pain in 
being obliged to distress those for whom he had so much regard. 

'' I feel thankful to your lordship for your regard," replied 
Franklin good-humoredly ; "the Americans, on their part, will 
endeavor to lessen the pain you may feel, by taking good care of 
themselves." 

The result of this conference had a beneficial effect. It showed 
that his lordship had no power but what was given by the act of 
Parliament ; and put an end to the popular notion that he was 
vested with secret powers to negotiate an adjustment of grievances. 

The British take New York. — After the loss of Brooklyn 
Heights, the city of New York became untenable for the Americans. 
Convinced of the propriety of evacuation, Washington prepared 
for it by ordering the removal of all stores, excepting such as were 
indispensable for the subsistence of the troops while they remained. 



222 -^LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

On the 13th of September, just after dinner, three frigates and a 
forty-gun ship sailed up the East river with a gentle breeze, toward 
Hell Gate, and kept up an incessant fire. On the 14th, Washing- 
ton's baggage was removed to King's Bridge, whither head-quar- 
ters were to be transferred the same evening, it being clear that 
the enemy were preparing to encompass him on the Island. 

About sunset of the same day, six more ships passed up the 
Sound and joined those above. Within half an hour came ex- 
presses spurring to head-quarters. Three or four thousand of the 
enemy were crossing at Hell Gate to the islands at the mouth of 
Harlem river, where numbers were already encamped. An im- 
mediate landing at Harlem, or Morrisania, was apprehended. 
Washington was instantly in the saddle, spurring to Harlem 
Heights. The night, however, passed away quietly. In the morn- 
ing the enemy commenced operations. Three ships-of-war stood 
up the Hudson, " causing a most tremendous firing, assisted by 
the cannon of Governor's Island, which firing was returned from 
the city as well as the scarcity of heavy cannon would allow." 
The ships anchored opposite Bloomingdale, a few miles above the 
city. About eleven o'clock, the ships in the East river com- 
menced a heavy cannonade upon the breastworks between Turtle 
Bay and the city. At the same time two divisions of the troops 
encamped on Long Island emerged in boats from the deep, 
woody recesses of Newton Inlet, and under cover of the fire from 
the ships, began toland at two points between Turtle and Kip's 
Bays. The breastworks were manned by militia who had recently 
served at Brooklyn. Disheartened by their late defeat, they fled 
at the first advance of the enemy. Two brigades of Putnam's 
Connecticut troops which had been sent that morning to support 
them caught the panic, and, regardless of the commands and 
entreaties of their officers, joined in the general scamper. 

At this moment Washington, who had mounted his horse at the 
first sound of the cannonade, came galloping to the scene of con- 
fusion ; riding in among the fugitives, he endeavored to rally and 
restore them to order. All in vain. At the first appearance of 
sixty or seventy red- coats, they broke again without firing a shot, 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 223 

and fled in headlong terror. Losing all self-command at the 
sight of such dastardly conduct, he dashed his hat upon the ground 
in a transport of rage. " Are these the men," exclaimed he, " with 
whom I am to defend America ! " In a paroxysm of passion and 
despair he snapped his pistols at some of them, threatened others 
with his sword, and was so heedless of his own danger, that he 
might have fallen into the hands of the enemy, who were not 
eighty yards distant, had not an aide-de-camp seized the bridle of 
his horse, and absolutely hurried him away. 

It was one of the rare moments of his life, when the vehement 
element of his nature was stirred up from its deep recesses. He 
soon recovered his self-possession, and took measures against the 
general peril. The enemy might land another force about Hell 
Gate, seize upon Harlem Heights, the strong central portion of 
the island, cut off all retreat of the lower divisions, and effectually 
sever his army. In all haste, therefore, he sent off an express to 
the forces encamped above, directing them to secure that position 
immediately ; while another express to Putnam ordered an imme- 
diate retreat from the city to those heights. 

It was indeed a perilous moment. Had the enemy followed up 
their advantage, and seized upon the heights, before thus occu- 
pied ; or had they extended themselves across the island, from the 
place where they had effected a landing, the result might have 
been most disastrous to the Americans. Fortunately, they con- 
tented themselves for the present with sending a strong detach- 
ment down the road along the East river, leading to the city, 
while the main body rested on their arms. 

In the meantime Putnam, on receiving Washington's express, 
called in his pickets and guards, and abandoned the city in all 
haste, leaving behind him a large quantity of provisions and mili- 
tary stores, and most of the heavy cannon. To avoid the enemy 
he took the Bloomingdale road, though this exposed him to be 
raked by the enemy's ships anchored in the Hudson. It was a 
forced march, on a sultry day, under a burning sun, and amid 
clouds of dust. His army was encumbered with women and chil- 
dren, and all kinds of baggage. Many were overcome by fatigue 



224 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and thirst, some perished by hastily drinking cold water; but 
Putnam rode backward and forward hurrying every one on. Thus 
they joined the army after dark upon the heights of Harlem. 

The fortified camp, where the main body of the army was now 
assembled, was upon that neck of land several miles long, and for 
the most part not above a mile wide, which forms the upper part 
of Manhattan or New York Island. It forms a chain of rocky 
heights, and is separated from the mainland by Harlem river, a 
narrow strait extending from Hell Gate on the Sound to Spyt den 
Duivel, a creek or inlet of the Hudson. Fort Washington occu- 
pied the crest of one of the rocky heights above mentioned, over- 
looking the Hudson, and about two miles north of it was King's 
Bridge, crossing Spyt den Duivel Creek, and forming at that time 
the only pass from Manhattan Island to the mainland. 

About a mile and a half south of the fort, a double row of lines 
extended across the neck from Harlem river to the Hudson. 
They faced south towards New York, were about a quarter of a 
mile apart, and were defended by batteries. There were strong 
advanced posts about two miles south of the outer line. About a 
mile and a half beyond these posts the British lines extended 
across the island from Horen's Hook to the Hudson, being a con- 
tinuous encampment, two miles in length, with both flanks covered 
by shipping. An open plain intervened between the hostile 
camps. 

Washington had established his head-quarters about a quarter of 
a mile within the inner line, at a country seat, the owners of which 
were absent. While thus posted, he was incessantly occupied in 
fortifying the approaches to his camp by redoubts, abatis, and 
deep entrenchments. In the course of his rounds of inspection he 
was struck with the skill and science displayed in the construction 
of some of the works which were thrown up under the direction 
of a youthful captain of artillery, Alexander Hamilton. After some 
conversation with him, Washington invited him to his tent, and 
thus commenced that intercourse which has indissolubly linked 
their memories together. 

On the morning of the i6th, the enemy made a vigorous attempt 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 22S 

to break through the centre of the American Unes on Harlem 
Heights, but were defeated with a loss of three hundred killed and 
wounded. This was the first gleam of success in the campaign, 
and revived the spirits of the army. What was the state of that 
army? The terms of engagement of many of the men would soon 
be at an end ; most of them would terminate with the year ; nor 
did Congress hold out offers to encourage re-enlistments. " We 
are now, as it were, upon the eve of a dissolution of the army," 
writes Washington, " and unless some speedy and effectual measures 
are adopted by Congress, our cause will be lost." Under these 
gloomy apprehensions, he borrowed, as he said, " a few moments 
from the hours allotted to sleep," and, on the night of the 24th 
of September, penned an admirable letter to the President of Con- 
gress, setting forth the inefficiency of the existing military system, 
the insubordination, waste, confusion, and discontent produced by 
it among the men, and the harassing cares and vexations to which 
it subjected the commanders. Nor did he content himself with 
complaining, but, in his full, clear, and sagacious manner, pointed 
out the remedies. To the achievements of his indefatigable pen, 
we may trace the most fortunate turns in the current of our revolu- 
tionary affairs. In the present instance his representations, illus- 
trated by sad experience, produced at length a reorganization of 
the army, and the establishment of it on a permanent footing. 
It was decreed that eighty-eight battalions should be furnished in 
quotas, by the different states, according to their abilities. The 
pay of the officers was raised. The troops which engaged to serve 
throughout the war were to receive a bounty of twenty dollars and 
one hundred acres of land, besides a yearly suit of clothes while 
in service. Those who enlisted for but three years received no 
bounty in land. The bounty to officers was on a higher ratio. 
The states were to send commissioners to the army, to arrange 
with the commander-in-chief as to the appointment of officers in 
their quotas ; but, as they might occasionally be slow in comply- 
ing with this regulation, Washington was empowered to fill up all 
vacancies. 

All this was a great relief to his mind. He was gratified, also. 



226 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

by effecting, after a long correspondence with the British com- 
mander, an exchange of prisoners, in which those captured in 
Canada were included. Among those restored to the service were 
Sullivan, Stirling, and Morgan. 

Movement to White Plains. — The security of the Hudson river 
was at this time an object of great solicitude with Congress, and 
much reliance was placed on Putnam's obstructions at Fort Wash- 
ington. Four galleys, mounted with heavy guns and swivels, were 
stationed at the chevaux-de-frise, and two new ships were at hand, 
which, filled with stones, were to be sunk where they would block 
up the channel. A sloop was also at anchor, having on board a 
machine, invented by a Mr. Bushnell, for submarine explosion, 
with which to blow up the men-of-war; a favorite scheme with 
General Putnam. The obstructions were so commanded by bat- 
teries on each shore, that it was thought no hostile ship would be 
able to pass. 

On the 9th of October, however, the Roebuck and Phcenix, each 
of forty-four guns, and the Tartar of twenty guns, which had been 
lying for some time opposite Bloomingdale, got under way at eight 
o'clock in the morning, and came up the river with an easy south- 
ern breeze. At their approach, the galleys and the two ships in- 
tended to be sunk got under way with all haste, as did a schooner 
laden with rum, sugar, and other supplies for the American army, 
and the sloop with Bushnell's submarine machine. 

The Roebuck, Phoenix, and Tartar broke through the vaunted 
barriers as through a cobweb, and kept on their course, the Amer- 
ican vessels scudding before them. The schooner was overhauled 
and captured ; a well-aimed shot sent the sloop and Bushnell's 
submarine engine to the bottom of the river. The British had 
attained their object, which was to satisfy themselves that the 
Hudson was passable for their ships and transports, so that troops 
might be landed, if need be, above Fort Washington. 

Having ascertained this point, Howe left Lord Percy in com- 
mand at New York, and took a considerable part of his army up 
the East river to Throg's Neck, with the view of getting into the 
rear of the American army, cutting off its supplies, which were 




->• NEW YORK &VIEINITY'N 1776.-<- 



To face page 227. 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 227 

chiefly derived from the East, and interrupting its communication 
with the main country. Throg's Neck is a peninsula in West- 
chester County, stretching upwards of two miles into the Sound. 
It was separated from the mainland by a narrow creek and a 
marsh, and was surrounded by water every high tide. A bridge 
across a creek, connecting with a ruined causeway across the 
marsh, led to the mainland, and the upper end of the creek was 
fordable at low water. Early in the morning of October 1 2, eighty or 
ninety boats full of men had passed up the Sound and landed troops 
to the number of four thousand on Throg's Point, the extremity of 
the Neck. Thence their advance pushed forward toward the 
causeway and bridge, to secure that pass to the mainland. Wash- 
ington had been too quick for them. Colonel Hand and his 
Philadelphia riflemen, the same who had checked the British 
advance on Long Island, had taken up the planks of the bridge, 
and posted themselves opposite the end of the causeway, whence 
they began firing with their rifles. They were soon so heavily 
reinforced that the enemy were brought to a stand. Washing- 
ton ordered works to be thrown up at the passes from the Neck 
to the mainland. The British also threw up a work at the end of 
the causeway. In the afternoon nine ships, with a great number 
of schooners, sloops, and flat-bottomed boats full of men, passed 
through Hell Gate, towards Throg's Point ; and information, re- 
ceived from two deserters, gave Washington reason to believe that 
the greater part of the enemy's forces were gathering in that quar- 
ter. It was plain the whole scene of action was changing. 

On the 14th, General Lee arrived in camp, where he was wel- 
comed as the harbinger of good luck. Washington was absent, 
visiting the posts beyond King's Bridge, and the passes leading 
from Throg's Neck ; Lee immediately rode forth to join him. No 
one gave him a sincerer greeting than the commander-in-chief, 
who, diffident of his own military knowledge, had a high opinion 
of that of Lee. He immediately gave him command of the troops 
above King's Bridge, now the greatest part of the army, but desired 
that he would not exercise it for a day or two, until he had time 
to acquaint himself with the localities and arrangements of the 



228 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

post ; Heath, in the interim, held the command. Lee was elevated 
by his success at the South, and disposed to criticise disparagingly 
the military operations of other commanders. In a letter, written 
on the day of his arrival to his old associate in arms. General 
Gates, he condemns the position of the army, and censures Wash- 
ington for submitting to the dictation of Congress. 

In the meantime Congress, on the nth of October, having 
heard of the ingress of the Phcenix, Roebuck, and Ta7'tar, passed 
a resolution that General Washington be desired, if it be practi- 
cable, by every art, and at whatever expense, to obstruct effectually 
the navigation of the North river between Fort Washington and 
Fort Lee, as well to prevent the regress of the enemy's vessels 
lately gone up, as to hinder them from receiving succors. 

Washington now decided to abandon the island of New York, 
in order to preserve his communications. But as the resolve of 
Congress seemed imperative with regard to Fort Washington, that 
post, it was agreed, should be "retained as long as possible." A 
strong garrison was accordingly placed in it ; Colonel Magaw was 
put in command of the post, and solemnly charged by Washington 
to defend it to the last extremity. 

Previous to decamping from Manhattan Island, Washington 
formed four divisions of the army, which were respectively assigned 
to Generals Lee, Heath, Sullivan, and Lincoln. Lee was stationed 
on Valentine's Hill on the mainland, immediately opposite King's 
Bridge, to cover the transportation of the military stores and 
heavy baggage. The other divisions were to form a chain of for- 
tified posts, extending about thirteen miles, along a ridge of hills 
on the west side of the Bronx, from Lee's camp up to the village of 
White Plains. Washington's head-quarters continued to be on 
Harlem Heights for several days, during which time he was con- 
tinually in the saddle, riding about a broken, woody, and half-wild 
country, forming posts, and choosing sites for breastworks and re- 
doubts. By his skilful disposition of the army, it was protected in 
its whole length by the Bronx, a narrow but deep stream, fringed 
with trees, which ran along the foot of the ridge ; at the same 
time his troops faced and outflanked the enemy, and covered the 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 229 

roads along which the stores and baggage had to be transported. 
On the 2ist, he shifted his head-quarters to Valentine's Hill, and 
on the 23d to White Plains, where he stationed himself in a forti- 
fied camp. Meanwhile General Howe remained for six days pas- 
sive in his camp on Throg's Point awaiting the arrival of supplies 
and reinforcements, instead of pushing across to the Hudson, and 
throwing himself between Washington's army and the upper coun- 
try. His inaction lost him a golden opportunity. By the time 
his supplies arrived, the Americans had broken up the causeway 
leading to the mainland, and taken positions too strong to be easily 
forced. Finding himself headed in this direction, Howe re-em- 
barked part of his troops in flat-boats on the i8th, crossed East- 
chester Bay, and landed on Pell's Point, at the mouth of Hutch- 
inson's river. Here he was joined in a few hours by the main 
body, with the baggage and artillery, and proceeded through the 
manor of Pelham towards New Rochelle ; still with a view to get 
above Washington's army. On the 21st he was encamped about 
two miles north of New Rochelle, with his outposts extending to 
Mamaroneck on the Sound. While in this neighborhood he was 
reinforced by a second division of Hessians under General Kny- 
phausen, and a regiment of Waldeckers, both of which had re- 
cently arrived in New York. On the 25th, Washington drew all 
his troops from the posts along the Bronx into the fortified camp 
at White Plains. 

His camp was situated on high ground, facing the east. The 
right wing stretched towards the south along a rocky hill, at the 
foot of which the Bronx, making an elbow, protected it in flank and 
rear. The left wing rested on a small, deep lake among the hills. 
The camp was strongly entrenched in front. About a quarter of a 
mile to the right of the camp, and separated from the height on 
which it stood by the Bronx and a marshy interv^al, was a corre- 
sponding height called Chatterton's Hill. As this pardy com- 
manded the right flank, and as the intervening bend of the Bronx 
was easily passable, Washington had stationed on its summit a 
militia regiment. 



230 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Battle of White Plains. — The whole encampment was a tem- 
porary one, to be changed as soon as the miUtary stores collected 
there could be removed ; and now that General Lee was arrived, 
Washington rode out with him, and other general officers who were 
off duty, to reconnoiter a height which appeared more eligible. 
When arrived at it, Lee pointed to another on the north, still more 
commanding. " Yonder," said he, " is the ground we ought to 
occupy." " Let us go, then, and view it," replied Washington. 
They were gently riding in that direction, when a trooper came 
spurring up his panting horse. " The British are in the camp, 
sir ! " cried he. " Then, gentlemen," said Washington, "we have 
other business to attend to than reconnoitering." Putting spurs 
to his horse, he set off for the camp at full gallop, the others spur- 
ring after him. Arrived at head-quarters, he was informed by 
Adjutant-general Reed, that the pickets had been driven in, and 
the enemy were advancing : but that the whole American army 
was posted in order of battle. 

Apprehensive that the enemy might attempt to get possession of 
Chatterton's Hill, Washington increased the force there to sixteen 
hundred men, and put General McDougall in command. This had 
scarcely been done when the enemy appeared glistening on the 
high grounds beyond the village of White Plains. They advanced 
in two columns, the right commanded by Sir Henry Clinton, the 
left by the Hessian general, Heister. There was also a troop of 
horse ; formidable in the inexperienced eyes of the Americans. 

For a time they halted in a wheat field, behind a rising ground, 
and the general officers rode up in the centre to hold a consulta- 
tion. Washington supposed they were preparing to attack him in 
front, and such indeed was their intention ; but the commanding 
height of Chatterton's Hill had caught the eye of General Howe, 
and he determined first to get possession of it. Colonel Rahl was 
accordingly detached with a brigade of Hessians, to cross the Bronx 
about a quarter of a mile below, and ascend the south side of the 
hill ; while General Leslie, with a large force, should advance di- 
rectly in front, throw a bridge across the stream, and charge up 
the hill. 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 231 

A furious cannonade was now opened by the British from fifteen 
or twenty pieces of artillery, placed on high ground opposite ; un- 
der cover of which, Leslie's troops hastened to construct the 
bridge. In so doing, they were severely galled by two field-pieces, 
in charge of Alexander Hamilton, the youthful captain of artillery. 
As soon as the bridge was finished, they rushed over it, and charged 
up the hill to take Hamilton's two field-pieces. Three times the 
field-pieces were discharged, ploughing the ascending columns 
from hill-top to river, while Smallwood's "blue and buff" Mary- 
landers kept up their volleys of musketry. 

In the meantime, Rahl and his Hessian brigade forded the 
Bronx lower down, pushed up the south side of the hill, and en- 
deavored to turn McDougall's right flank. The militia gave their 
general but little support. They had been dismayed at the open- 
ing of the engagement by a shot from a British cannon, which 
wounded one of them in the thigh, and nearly put the whole to 
flight. It was with the utmost difficulty McDougall had rallied 
them, and posted them behind a stone wall. Here they did some 
service, until a troop of British cavalry, having gained the crest of 
the hill, came on, brandishing their sabres. At their first charge 
the militia gave a random fire, then broke, and fled in confusion. 

A brave stand was made on the summit of the hill by the Del- 
aware and Maryland troops. Twice they repulsed the enemy, 
until, cramped for room and greatly outnumbered, they slowly 
retreated down the north side of the hill, where there was a bridge 
across the Bronx. Here they were met by General Putnam, who 
was coming to their assistance, and in the rear of his troops, they 
marched back into the camp. 

The loss on both sides, in this short but severe action, was 
nearly equal, — some four hundred killed and wounded. The 
British army now rested with their left wing on the hill they had 
just taken, and which they were busy entrenching. They were 
extending their right wing to the left of the American lines so that 
their two wings and centre formed nearly a semicircle. It was 
evidently their design to outflank the American camp, and get in 
the rear of it. The day, however, being far advanced, was suffered 



232 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

to pass without any further attack ; but the morrow was looked 
forward to for a deadly conflict. Washington availed himself of 
this inter\'al to have the sick and wounded, and as much of the 
stores as j^ossible, removed from the camp. The two armies lay 
looking at each other, within long cannon shot. In the night time 
the British lighted up a vast number of fires, the weather growing 
pretty cold. These fires, some on the level ground, some at the 
foot of the hills, and at all distances to their brows, some of which 
were lofty, seemed to the eye to mix with the stars. During this 
anxious night, Washington was assiduously occupied throwing 
back his right wing to stronger ground ; doubling his entrench- 
ments and constructing three redoubts, with a line in front, on the 
summit of his post. These works, principally intended for defence 
against small arms, were thrown up with a rapidity that to the 
enemy must have savored of magic. They were made of the 
stalks of Indian corn, pulled up with the earth clinging in masses 
to the large roots, so that they answered the purpose of sods and 
fascines. The tops being placed inwards, as the loose earth was 
thrown upon them, became as so many trees to the work, which 
was carried up with a dispatch scarcely conceivable. 

In the morning of the 29th, when Howe beheld how greatly 
Washington had strengthened his position by what appeared to be 
solidly constructed works, he postponed his meditated assault, 
ordered up Lord Percy from Harlem with reinforcements, and 
proceeded to throw up lines and redoubts in front of the American 
camp, as if preparing to cannonade it. As the enemy were en- 
deavoring to outflank him, especially on his right wing, Washing- 
ton apprehended one of their objects might be to seize Pine's 
Bridge over Croton river, which would cut off his communication 
with the upper country. General Beall, with three Maryland 
regiments, was sent off with all expedition to secure that pass. It 
was Washington's idea that, having possession of Croton river and 
the passes in the Highlands, his army would be safe from further 
pursuit, and ready to harass the enemy should they think fit to 
winter up the country. At present nothing could exceed the war- 
worn condition of the troops. A scornful letter, written by a Brit- 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 233 

ish officer to his friend in London, gives a picture of the phght to 
which they were reduced, in this rainy and inclement season. 
" The rebel army are in so wretched a condition as to clothing and 
accoutrements, that I believe no nation ever saw such a set of tat- 
terdemalions. There are few coats among them but what are out 
at the elbows, and in a whole regiment there is scarce a pair of 
breeches. Judge, then, how they must be pinched by a winter's 
campaign. We, who are warmly clothed and well equipped, 
already feel it severely ; for it is even now much colder than I 
ever felt it in England." 

Alas for the poor half-naked weather-beaten patriots, who had 
to cope with these well-fed and well-clad veterans ! A letter 
written at the same date, by General George Clinton, shows what 
they had to grapple with. 

"We had reason," writes he, " to apprehend an attack last night, 
or by daylight this morning. Our lines were manned all night in 
consequence ; and a most horrid night it was to lie in cold 
trenches. Uncovered as we are, daily on fatigue, making re- 
doubts and abatis, and retreating from them and the little tempo- 
rary huts made for our comfort before they are all finished, I fear 
will ultimately destroy our army without fighting. However," 
adds he, honestly, " I would not be understood to condemn these 
measures. They may be right for aught I know. I do not under- 
stand much of the refined art of war ; it is said to consist in strata- 
gem and deception." 

Clinton was an ardent patriot, of resolute spirit, and plain good 
sense; but an inexperienced soldier. His idea of warfare was 
straightforward fighting ; and he was greatly perplexed by the con- 
tinual strategy which Washington's situation required. One of the 
aides-de-camp of the latter had a truer notion on the subject. 
"The campaign hitherto," said Tench Tilghman, " has been a fair 
trial of generalship, in which I flatter myself we have had the 
advantage. If we, with our motley army, can keep Mr. Howe and 
his grand appointment at bay, I think we shall make no contemp- 
tible military figure." 

On the night of the 31st, Washington made another of those 



234 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

moves which perplexed the worthy CHnton. In the course of the 
night he shifted his whole position, set fire to the barns and out- 
houses containing forage and stores, which there was no time to 
remove, and leaving a strong rear-guard on the heights, and in the 
neighboring woods, retired with his main army a distance of five 
miles, among the high, rocky hills about Northcastle. Here he 
immediately set to work to entrench and fortify himself; his policy 
at this time being, as he used to say, " to fight with the spade and 
mattock." General Howe did not attempt to dislodge him from 
this fastness. " All matters are as quiet as if the enemy were one 
hundred miles distant from us," writes one of Washington's aides 
on the 2d of November. During the night of the 4th, this quiet 
was interrupted. A mysterious sound was heard in the direction 
of the British camp, like the rumbhng of wagons and artillery. 
At daybreak the meaning of it was discovered. The enemy were 
decamping. Long trains were observed, defiling across the hilly 
country, along the roads leading to Dobbs' Ferry on the Hudson. 
The movement continued for three successive days, until their 
whole force disappeared from White Plains. 

Fort Washington in Danger. — Various were the speculations at 
head-quarters on the sudden movement of the enemy. Washington 
writes to William Livingston (governor of New Jersey) : " They 
have gone towards the North river and King's Bridge. Some 
suppose they are going into winter quarters. I cannot subscribe 
wholly to this opinion. That they will invest Fort Washington, is 
a matter of which there can be no doubt ; and I think there is a 
strong probability that General Howe will detach a part of his 
force to make an incursion into the Jerseys. He must attempt 
something on account of his reputation, for what has he done as 
yet, with his great army?" In the same letter he expressed his 
determination, as soon as it should appear that the present manoeu- 
vre was a real retreat, and not a feint, to throw over a body of 
troops into the Jerseys to assist in checking Howe's progress. He, 
moreover, recommended to the governor to have the militia of 
that state put on the best possible footing. 

Affairs at Fort Washington soon settled the question of the 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 235 

enemy's intentions with regard to it. Lord Percy took liis station 
with a body of troops before the Hnes to the south. Knyphausen 
advanced on the north, and crossing King's Bridge, took a position 
between it and Fort Washington. The approach to the fort, on 
this side, was exceedingly steep and rocky ; as, indeed, were all 
its approaches excepting that on the south, where the country was 
more open, and the ascent gradual. The fort could not hold 
within its walls above one thousand men ; the rest of the troops 
were distributed about the lines and outworks. While the fort was 
thus menaced, the chevaux-de-frise had again proved inefficient. 
On the night of the 5th, a frigate and two transports, bound up to 
Dobbs' Ferry, with supplies for Howe's army, had broken through ; 
though not without being considerably shattered by the batteries. 

Informed of these facts, Washington wrote on the 8th, to Greene, 
who was at Fort Lee in command both of that stronghold and of 
Fort Washington : " If we cannot prevent vessels from passing 
up the river, and the enemy are possessed of all the surrounding 
country, what valuable purpose can it answer to hold a post from 
which the expected benefit cannot be had? I am, therefore, in- 
cHned to think, that it will not be prudent to hazard the men and 
stores at Fort Washington ; but, as you are on the spot, I leave it 
to you to give such orders as to evacuating the fort as you may 
judge best, and so far revoking the orders given to Colonel Magaw, 
to defend it to the last." 

Greene, in reply (Nov. 9th), adhered with tenacity to the policy 
of maintaining Fort Washington. He did not consider the fort in 
immediate danger. Colonel Magaw thougiit it would take the 
enemy until the end of December to carry it. In the meantime, 
the garrison could at any time be brought off, and even the stores 
removed, should matters grow desperate. If the enemy should 
not find it an object of importance, they would not trouble them- 
selves about it j if they should, it would be a proof that they felt 
an injury from its being maintained. The giving it up would open 
for them a free communication with the country by the way of 
King's Bridge. It is doubtful when or where Washington received 
this letter, as he left the camp at Northcastle at eleven o'clock of 



236 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the following morning. There being still considerable uncertainty 
as to the intentions of the enemy, all his arrangements were made 
accordingly. All the troops belonging to the states west of the 
Hudson, were to be stationed in the Jerseys, under command of 
General Putnam. Lord Stirling had already been sent forward 
with the Maryland and Virginia troops to Peekskill, to cross the 
river at King's Ferry. Another division composed of Connecticut 
and Massachusetts troops, under General Heath, was to co-operate 
with the brigade of New York militia under General George Clin- 
ton, in securing the Highland posts on both sides of the river. 
The troops which would remain at Northcastle after the departure 
of Heath and his division, were to be commanded by Lee. Wash- 
ington's letter of instructions to that general is characterized by his 
own modesty, and his deference for Lee's superior military experi- 
ence. He suggests, rather than orders, yet his letter is sufficiently 
explicit. ". . . You will consider the post at Pine's Bridge as under 
your immediate care. ... If the enemy should remove the whole, 
or the greater part of their force to the west side of Hudson's 
river, I have no doubt of your following with all possible dispatch, 
leaving the militia and invalids to cover the frontiers of Connec- 
ticut in case of need." 

On the loth of November Washington left the camp at North- 
castle at eleven o'clock, and arrived at Peekskill at sunset ; whither 
General Heath, with his division, had preceded him by a few 
hours. Lord Stirling was there, likewise, having effected the trans- 
portation of his troops across the river, and landed them at the 
ferry south of Stony Point. His lordship had thrown out a scout- 
ing party in the advance, and a hundred men to take possession 
of a gap in the mountain, through which a road passed toward the 
Jerseys. 

Washington was now at the entrance of the Highlands, that 
grand defile of the Hudson, the object of so much precaution and 
solicitude. On the following morning he made a military visit in 
boats to the Highland posts. Fort Montgomery was in a consid- 
erable state of forwardness, and a work in the vicinity was pro- 
jected to co-operate with it. Fort Constitution commanded a sud- 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 237 

den bend of the river, but Lord Stirling in his report of inspection 
had intimated that the fort itself was commanded by West Point 
opposite, A glance of the eye, without going on shore, was suffi- 
cient to convince Washington of the fact. A fortress, subsequently 
erected on that point, has been considered the Key of the High- 
lands. Having made these arrangements, Washington placed 
Heath in the general command of the Highlands, with written in- 
structions to fortify the passes with all possible dispatch, and direc- 
tions how the troops were to be distributed on both sides of the 
river. 

Heath was now in the fortieth year of his age. He had been 
brought up in rural life, on a farm near Boston; yet he had from 
childhood a great relish for military affliirs, and had studied every 
treatise on the subject in the English language. He describes 
himself as of middling stature, light complexion, very corpulent and 
bald-headed, so that the French officers who served in America, 
compared him to the Marquis of Granby. Such was the officer 
intrusted with the commanrl of the Highland passes, and encamped 
at Peekskill, their portal. 

Battle of Valcour Island. — During his brief sojourn at Peeks- 
kill, Washington received important intelligence from the northern 
army ; especially that part of it on Lake Champlain, under the 
command of General Gates. A slight retrospect of affairs in that 
quarter is proper, before we proceed to narrate the eventful cam- 
paign in the Jerseys. 

The preparations for the defence of Ticonderoga, and the nauti- 
cal service on the lake had met with difficulties at every step. 
At length, by the middle of August, a small flotilla was completed, 
and the command given by Gates to Arnold, in compliance with 
the advice of Washington, who had a high opinion of that officer's 
energy, intrepidity, and fertility in expedients. 

Sir Guy Carleton, in the meantime, was straining t\try nerve for 
the approaching conflict. The successes of the British forces on 
the sea-board had excited the zealous rivalry of the forces in Can- 
ada ; they were fearful the war might be brought to a close, before 
they could have an opportunity to share in the glory. Hence the 



23S LIFE OF WASH I xerox. 

ardor with which they encouutored and vanquished obstacles 
which otherwise niiglit have appeared insuiierable. Vessels were 
brought from l\ngland in pieces and put together at St. John, boats 
of various kinds and sizes were transported over land, or dragged up 
the rapids of the Sorel. Sir Cui)- was full of hope and ardor. 
Should he get connnand k^{ bakes Thauiplain and (icorge, the 
northern part (>i New York would be at his mercy ; before winter 
set in he might gain ]iossession of Albany. He would then be able 
to co-ojKMale with llowc in sc\ering and subduing the northern and 
southern pro\iuces, and bringing the war to a s]>eedy and trium- 
phant close. 

In desjMte o{ every exertion, three months elajised before his 
armament was completed. Winter was fast apjn-oaching. Before 
it arrived, the success of his brilliant plan required that he should 
light his way across Lake Champlain ; carry the strong posts of 
C'rown Point and Ticonderoga ; traverse bake C'.eorge, and pursue 
a long and dangerous march through a wild country, beset with 
forests and morasses, to Albany. That was the first post to the 
southward where he expected to find rest and winter ijuarters for 
his troops. 

By the month of October, between twenty and thirty sail were 
alloat. and ready for action. The tlag-ship (the Inflexibh^ 
mounted eighteen twelve-pounders : the rest were gunboats, a 
gondola and a llat-bottomed vessel, named the Thunderer : car- 
rying a battery oi six twenty-four and twelve six-poundei-s, be- 
sides howitzers. The gunboats mounted brass tield-pieces aiul 
howit7.ers. Seven himdred seamen navigated the tleet, which 
was commanded by CajHain Pringle, but Sir Guy Carleton was 
too t'ull of /eal not to head the enterprise : he accordingly took 
his station on the deck of the tlag-ship. They made sail early 
in October, in quest oi the American squadron, which was said 
to be abroad upon the lake. Arnold, however, being ignorant 
of the strength of the enemy, and unwilling to encounter a su- 
perior force in tlie open lake, had taken his post under cover of 
Valcour Island, in the upper part of a deep channel, or strait 
between that island and the mainland. His force consisted of 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 239 

three schooners, two sloops, three galleys and eight gondolas ; 
carrying in all seventy guns, many of them eighteen-pounders. 

The ]jritish ships, sweeping past Cumberland Head with a fair 
wind and flowing sail on the morning of the nth, had left the 
southern end of Valccjur Island astern, when they discovered 
Arnold's flotilla anchored behind it, in a line extending across the 
strait so as not to be outflanked. They immediately hauled close 
to the wind, and tried to beat up into the channel. The wind, 
however, did nc^t ]>ermit the largest of them to enter. Arncjkl took 
advantage of the circumstance. He was on board of the galley 
Congress, and, leaving the line, advanced, with two other galleys 
and the schooner Royal Savage, to attack the smaller vessels as 
they entered, before the large ones could come up. About twelve 
o'clock the enemy's schooner Caj'leton opened a brisk fire ujjon 
the Royal Savage and the galleys. It was as briskly returned. 
Seeing the enemy's gunboats ai^^jroaching, the Americans endeav- 
ored to return t(j the line. In so doing, the Royal Savage ran 
aground. ?ler crew set her on fire and abandoned her. In about 
an hour the British brought all their gunboats in a range across the 
lower [)art (jf the channel, within musket shot of the Americans, 
the schooner Carleton in the advance. They landed, also, a large 
number of Indians on the island, to keep up a galling fire from the 
shore upon the Americans with their rifles. The action now 
became general, and was severe and sanguinary. The Americans, 
finding themselves thus hemmed in by a superior force, fought 
with desperation. Arnold pressed with his galley into the hottest 
of the fight. The Congress was hulled several times, received 
seven shcjts 1)etween wind and water, was shattered in mast and 
rigging, and many of the crew were killed or wounded. The ardor 
of Arnold increased with his danger. He cheered on his men by 
voice and example, often pointing the guns with his own hands. 
The contest lasted throughout the day. Carried on as it was 
within a narrow compass, and on a tranquil lake, almost every shot 
took effect. The fire of the Indians from the shore was less deadly 
than had been expected ; but their whoops and yells, mingling 
with the rattling of the musketry, and the thundering of the can- 



240 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

non, increased the horrors of the scene. Volumes of smoke rose 
above the woody shores, which echoed with the unusual din of war, 
and for a time this lovely recess of a beautiful and peaceful lake 
was a pandemonium. 

The evening drew nigh, yet the contest was undecided. Cap- 
tain Pringle called off the smaller vessels which had been engaged, 
and anchored his whole squadron in a line as near as possible to 
the Americans, so as to prevent their escape ; trusting to capture 
the whole of them when the wind should prove favorable, so that 
he could bring his large vessels into action. 

Arnold, however, sensible that with his inferior and crippled 
force all resistance would be unavailing, took advantage of a dark 
cloudy night and a strong north wind ; his vessels slipped silently 
through the enemy's line without being discovered, one following a 
light on the stern of the other : and by daylight they were out of 
sight. They had to anchor, however, at Schuyler's Island, about 
ten miles up the lake, to stop leaks and make repairs. Two of the 
gondolas were here sunk, being past remedy. About noon the 
retreat was resumed, but the wind had become adverse ; and they 
made little progress. Arnold's galley, the Congress, the Washing- 
ton galley and four gondolas, all which had suffered severely in the 
late fight, fell astern of the rest of the squadron in the course of 
the night. In the morning, when the sun lifted a fog which had 
covered the lake, they beheld the enemy within a few miles of 
them in full chase, while their own comrades were nearly out of 
sight, making the best of their way for Crown Point. 

It was now an anxious trial of speed and seamanship. Arnold, 
with the crippled relics of his squadron, managed by noon to get 
within a few leagues of Crown Point, when they were overtaken by 
the Inflexible, the Cai'leton, and the schooner Maria. As soon as 
they came up, they poured in a tremendous fire. The Washington 
galley, already shattered, and having lost most of her officers, was 
compelled to strike, and Arnold had now to bear the brunt of the 
action. For a long time he was engaged within musket shot with 
the Iiflexible and the two schooners, until his galley was reduced 
to a wreck and one-third of the crew were killed. The gondolas 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 241 

were nearly in the same desperate condition ; yet the men stood 
stoutly to their guns. Seeing resistance vain, Arnold determined 
that neither vessels nor crew should fall into the hands of the 
enemy. He ordered the gondolas to run on shore, in a small 
creek in the neighborhood, the men to set fire to them as soon as 
they grounded, to wade on shore with their muskets, and keep off 
the enemy until they were consumed. He did the same with his 
own galley, remaining on board of her until she was in flames, 
lest the enemy should get possession and strike his flag, which was 
kept flying to the last. 

He now set off with his gallant crew, many of whom were 
wounded, by a road through the woods to Crown Point, where he 
arrived at night, narrowly escaping an Indian ambush. Two 
schooners, two galleys, one sloop, and one gondola, the remnant 
which had escaped of this squadron, were at anchor at the Point. 
Seeing that the place must soon fall into the hands of the enemy, 
they set fire to the houses, destroyed everything they could not carry 
away, and embarking in the vessels made sail for Ticonderoga. 

The conduct of Arnold in these naval affairs gained him new 
laurels. He was extolled for the judgment with which he chose 
his position, and brought his vessels into action ; for his masterly 
retreat, and for the self-sacrificing devotion with which he exposed 
himself to the overwhelming force of the enemy in covering the 
retreat of part of his flotilla. 

Sir Guy Carleton took possession of the ruined works at Crown 
Point, where he was soon joined by the army. He made several 
movements by land and water, as if meditating an attack upon 
Ticonderoga ; yet, to the astonishment of everybody, he suddenly 
decided to postpone the enterprise. It seemed to him that the 
post, from its strength, and the apparent number and resolution of 
the garrison, could not be taken without great loss of life. If taken, 
the season was now too far advanced to think of passing Lake 
George, and exposing the army to the perils of a winter campaign 
in the inhospitable and impracticable wilds to the southward. If, 
however, the defence should be obstinate, the British army, even if 
successful, might sustain a loss sufficient to cripple its operations 



242 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

in the coming year. Accordingly, re-embarking his troops, Carle- 
ton returned to St. John, and cantoned them in Canada for the 
winter. All apprehensions of an attack upon Ticonderoga during 
the present year were at an end, and many of the troops stationed 
there were already on their march toward Albany. 

Such was the purport of the news received by Washington at 
Peekskill. It relieved him for the present from all anxiety respect- 
ing affairs on Lake Champlain, and gave him the prospect of rein- 
forcements from that quarter. 

Fall of Fort Washington. — On the morning of the 12 th of 
November, Washington crossed the Hudson, to the ferry below 
Stony Point, with the residue of the troops destined for the Jerseys. 
Far below were to be descried the Phoenix, the Roebuck, and the 
Tartar, at anchor in the broad waters of Haverstraw Bay and the 
Tappan Sea, guarding the lower ferries. The army, thus shut out 
from the nearer passes, was slowly winding its way by a circuitous 
route through the gap in the mountains, which Lord Stirling had 
secured. Leaving the troops which had just landed, to pursue the 
same route to the Hackensack, Washington struck a direct course 
for Fort Lee, being anxious about affairs at Fort Washington. He 
arrived there on the following day, and found, to his disappoint- 
ment, that General Greene had taken no measures for the evacua- 
tion of that fortress ; but on the contrary, had reinforced it, so that 
its garrison now numbered nearly three thousand men. Colonel 
Magaw, its brave commander, still thought it was in no immediate 
danger. 

At this very moment General Howe was encamped on Fordham 
Heights, not far from King's Bridge. In the night of the 14th, 
thirty flat-bottomed boats stole quiedy up the Hudson, passed the 
American forts undiscovered, and made their way through Spyt den 
Duivel Creek into Harlem river. The means were thus provided 
for crossing that river and landing before unprotected parts of the 
American works. On the 15th, General Howe sent in a summons 
to surrender, with a threat of extremities should he have to carry 
the place by assault. Magaw, in his reply, intimated a doubt that 
General Howe would execute a threat " so unworthy of himself and 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 243 

the British nation ; but give me leave," added he, " to assure his 
Excellency, that, actuated by the most glorious cause that mankind 
ever fought in, I am determined to defend this post to the very 
last extremity." 

Apprised by the colonel of his peril. General Greene sent over 
reinforcements, with an exhortation to him to persist in his de- 
fence ; and dispatched an express to Washington, who was at 
Hackensack, where the troops which had crossed from Peekskill 
were encamped. It was nightfall when Washington arrived at 
Fort Lee. Greene and Putnam were over at the besieged fortress. 
He threw himself into a boat, and had partly crossed the river, 
when he met those generals returning. They informed him of the 
garrison's having been reinforced, and assured him that it was in 
high spirits, and capable of making a good defence. It was with 
difficulty, however, they could prevail on him to return with them 
to the Jersey shore, for he was excessively excited. 

Early the next morning (i6th), Magaw made his dispositions for 
the expected attack. 

Colonel Lambert Cadwalader, with eight hundred Pennsylva- 
nians, was posted in the outer lines, about two miles south of the 
fort, the side menaced by Lord Percy with sixteen hundred men. 
Colonel Rawlings, with a body of Maryland riflemen, was stationed 
by a three-gun battery, on a rocky, precipitous hill, north of the 
fort, and between it and Spyt den Duivel Creek. Colonel Baxter, 
with his regiment of Pennsylvania militia, was posted east of the 
fort, on rough, woody heights, bordering the Harlem river, to 
watch the motions of the enemy, who had thrown up redoubts on 
commanding ground, on the opposite side of the river, apparently 
to cover the crossing and landing of troops. 

General Howe had planned four simultaneous attacks ; one on 
the north by Knyphausen, who was encamped on the York side of 
King's Bridge, within cannon-shot of Fort Washington, but sepa- 
rated from it by high and rough hills, covered with almost impene- 
trable woods. He was to advance in two columns, formed by 
detachments made from the Hessians of his corps, the brigade of 
Rahl, and the regiment of Waldeckers. The second attack was to 



244 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

be by two battalions of light infantry, and two battalions of guards, 
under Brigadier-general Matthews, who was to cross Harlem river 
in flat-boats, under cover of the redoubts above mentioned, and to 
land on the right of the fort. This attack was to be supported by 
the first and second grenadiers, and a regiment of light infantry 
under command of Lord Cornwallis. The third attack, intended 
as a feint to distract the attention of the Americans, was to be by 
Colonel Sterling, with the forty-second regiment, who was to drop 
down the Harlem river in bateaux, to the left of the American 
lines, facing New York. The fourth attack was to be on the south, 
by Lord Percy, with the English and Hessian troops under his 
command, on the right flank of the American entrenchments. 

About noon, a heavy cannonade thundering along the rocky 
hills, and sharp volleys of musketry, proclaimed that the action 
was commenced. Knyphausen's division was pushing on from the 
north in two columns, as had been arranged. The right was led 
by Colonel Rahl, the left by himself. Rahl essayed to mount a 
steep, broken height called Cock Hill, which rises from Spyt den 
Duivel Creek, and was covered with woods. Knyphausen under- 
took a hill rising from the King's Bridge road, but soon found 
himself entangled in a woody defile, difficult to penetrate, and 
where his Hessians were exposed to the fire of the three-gun bat- 
tery, and Rawlings' riflemen. 

While this was going on at the north of the fort. General 
Matthews, with his light infantry and guards, crossed the Harlem 
river in the flat-boats, under cover of a heavy fire from the 
redoubts. He made good his landing, after being severely han- 
dled by Baxter and his men, from behind rocks and trees, and the 
breastworks thrown up on the steep river bank. A short contest 
ensued. Baxter, while bravely encouraging his men, was killed 
by a British officer. His troops, overpowered by numbers, re- 
treated to the fort. General Matthews now pushed on with his 
guards and light infantry to cut off Cadwalader. That officer had 
gallantly defended the lines against the attack of Lord Percy, 
until informed that Colonel Sterling was dropping down Harlem 
river in bateaux to flank the lines, and take him in the rear. He 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 245 

sent off a detachment to oppose his landing. They did it man- 
fully. About ninety of Sterling's men were killed or wounded in 
their boats, but he persevered, landed, and forced his way up a 
steep height, which was well defended, gained the summit, forced 
a redoubt, and took nearly two hundred prisoners. Thus doubly 
assailed, Cadwalader was obliged to retreat to the fort. He was 
closely pursued by Percy, but turned repeatedly on his pursuers. 
Thus he fought his way to the fort, with the loss of several killed 
and more taken prisoners ; but marking his track by the number 
of Hessians slain. 

The defence on tlie north side of the fort was equally obstinate 
and unsuccessful. Rawlings had for some time kept the left col- 
umn under Knyphausen at bay. At length Colonel Rahl, having 
forced his way directly up the north side of the steep hill at Spyt 
den Duivel Creek, came upon Rawlings' men, whose rifles from 
frequent discharges had become foul and almost useless, drove 
them from their strong post, and followed them until within a 
hundred yards of the fort, where he was joined by Knyphausen, 
who slowly made his way through a dense forest and over felled 
trees. Here they took post behind a large stone house, and sent 
in a flag, with a second summons to surrender. 

Washington, surrounded by several of his officers, had been an 
anxious spectator of the battle from the opposite side of the Hud- 
son. Much of it was hidden from him by intervening hills and 
forest ; but the roar of cannonry from the valley of Harlem river, 
the sharp and incessant reports of rifles, and the smoke rising 
above the tree tops, told him of the spirit with which the assault 
was received at various points, and gave him for a time a hope 
that the defence might be successful. The action about the lines 
to the south lay open to him, and could be distinctly seen through 
a telescope ; and nothing encouraged him more than the gallant 
style in which Cadwalader with an inferior force maintained his 
position. When he saw him, however, assailed in flank, the line 
broken, and his troops, overpowered by numbers, retreating to 
the fort, he gave up the game as lost. The worst sight of all, was 
to behold his men cut down and bayoneted by the Hessians while 



246 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

begging quarter. It is said so completely to have overcome him, 
that he wept ''with the tenderness of a child." 

Seeing the flag go into the fort from Knyphausen's division, and 
surmising it to be a summons to surrender, he wrote a note to 
Magaw, telling him that if he could hold out until evening and the 
place could not be maintained, he would endeavor to bring off the 
garrison in the night. Captain Gooch, of Boston, a brave and 
daring man, offered to be the bearer of the note. He ran down 
to the river, jumped into a small boat, pushed over the river, 
landed under the bank, ran up to the fort and delivered the mes- 
sage, came out, ran and jumped over the broken ground, dodging 
the Hessians, some of whom struck at him with their pieces, and 
others attempted to thrust him with their bayonets ; escaping 
through them, he got to his boat and returned to Fort Lee. 

Washington's message arrived too late. The fort was so crowded 
by the garrison, and the troops which had retreated into it, that it 
was difficult to move about. The enemy, too, were in possession 
of the little redoubts around, and could have poured in showers of 
shells and ricochet balls that would have made dreadful slaughter. 
It was no longer possible for Mag aw to get his troops to man the 
lines ; he was compelled, therefore, to yield himself and his garri- 
son prisoners of war. The only terms granted them were, that the 
men should retain their baggage and the officers their swords. 

The sight of the American flag hauled down, and the British 
flag waving in its place, told Washington of the surrender. 

Retreat through New Jersey. — With the capture of Fort 
Washington, the project of obstructing the navigation of the Hud- 
son, at that point, was at an end. Fort Lee, consequently, be- 
came useless, and Washington ordered all the ammunition and 
stores to be removed, preparatory to its abandonment. This was 
partially effected when, early in the morning of the 20th, intelli- 
gence was brought that the enemy, with two hundred boats, had 
crossed the river and landed a few miles above. General Greene 
immediately ordered the garrison under arms, sent out troops to 
hold the enemy in check, and dispatched an express to Washing- 
ton at Hackensack. 




To face page 247. 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 247 

The enemy — six thousand strong — had crossed the Hudson, 
on a very rainy night, under the command of Lord CornwalHs, and 
landed at a place called Closter Dock, five or six miles above Fort 
Lee, and under that line of lofty and perpendicular cliffs known 
as the Palisades. 

Washington arrived at the fort in three-quarters of an hour. 
Being told that the enemy were extending themselves across the 
country, he at once saw that they intended to form a line from the 
Hudson to the Hackensack, and hem the whole garrison in be- 
tween the two rivers. Nothing would save it but a prompt retreat 
to secure the bridge over the Hackensack. No time was to be 
lost. The troops sent out to check the enemy were recalled. The 
retreat commenced in all haste. There was a want of horses and 
wagons ; a great quantity of baggage, stores, and provisions, there- 
fore, was abandoned. So was all the artillery excepting two 
twelve-pounders. Even the tents were left standing, and camp- 
kettles on the fire. At Hackensack the army did not exceed three 
thousand men, dispirited by ill success, and the loss of tents and 
baggage. They were without entrenching tools, in a flat country, 
where there were no natural fastnesses. Again, to avoid the danger 
of being inclosed between two rivers, a second move was neces- 
sary. Leaving three regiments to guard the passes of the Hack- 
ensack, and serve as covering parties, Washington again decamped, 
and threw himself on the west bank of the Passaic, in the neigh- 
borhood of Newark. 

His army, small as it was, would soon be less. The term of en- 
Hstment of many of the soldiers was nearly expired ; and it was 
not probable that, disheartened as they were by defeats and losses, 
exposed to inclement weather, and unaccustomed to military hard- 
ships, they would longer forego the comforts of their homes, to 
drag out the residue of a ruinous campaign. In addition, too, to 
the superiority of the force that was following him, the rivers gave 
the enemy facilities, by means of their shipping, to throw troops 
in his rear. The situation of the litde army was daily becoming 
more perilous. In a council of war, several of the members urged 
a move to Morristown, to form a junction with troops expected 



248 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

from the Northern army. Washington, however, still cherished 
the idea of making a stand at Brunswick on the Raritan, or, at 
all events, of disputing the passage of the Delaware ; and in this 
intrepid resolution he was warmly seconded by Greene. Break- 
ing up his camp once more, therefore, he continued his retreat 
towards New Brunswick ; but so close was Cornwallis upon him, 
that his advance entered one end of Newark, just as the Ameri- 
can rear-guard had left the other. 

From Brunswick, Washington wrote on the 29th to William 
Livingston, governor of the Jerseys, requesting him to have all 
boats and river craft, for seventy miles along the Delaware, re- 
moved to the western bank out of the reach of the enemy, and put 
under guard. He was disappointed in his hope of making a stand 
on the banks of the Raritan. All the force he could muster at 
Brunswick, including the New Jersey militia, did not exceed four 
thousand men. Colonel Reed had failed in procuring aid from 
the New Jersey legislature. That body, shifting from place to 
place, was on the eve of dissolution. The term of the Maryland 
and New Jersey troops in the flying camp had expired. General 
Mercer endeavored to detain them, representing the disgrace of 
turning their backs upon the cause when the enemy was at hand : 
his remonstrances were fruitless. As to the Pennsylvania levies, 
they deserted in such numbers, that guards were stationed on the 
roads and ferries to intercept them. 

Ever since the retreat from the Hudson began, Washington had 
sent letters almost daily to Lee at Northcastle, ordering him to 
come with all possible speed to join him with the force left under 
his command, which now amounted to more than half of the army. 
But Lee had now made up his mind to use the loss of Fort Washing- 
ton for his own advantage. He wished to see Washington ruined 
in order that he might himself obtain the chief command. So 
he wickedly disobeyed orders, and stayed at Northcastle until he 
thought Washington's case was quite hopeless. Meanwhile he was 
busily employed in writing treacherous letters to prominent men, 
in the hope of poisoning their minds against Washington. His 
motives were not fully understood at the time ; but papers of his 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 249 

subsequently discovered have shown that he was an unmitigated 
scoundrel, — a traitor more base in character than Benedict Arnold, 
and not less dangerous. 

Washington lingered at Brunswick until the ist of December, in 
the vain hope of being reinforced. The enemy, in the meantime, 
advanced through the country, impressing wagons and horses, 
and collecting cattle and sheep, as if for a distant march. At 
length their vanguard appeared on the opposite side of the Rari- 
tan. Washington immediately broke down the end of the bridge 
next the village, and after nightfall resumed his retreat. At Prince- 
ton he left twelve hundred men under Lord Stirling, to cover the 
country, and watch the motions of the enemy. The harassed army, 
reached Trenton on the 2d of December, and Washington imme- 
diately proceeded to remove his baggage and stores across the 
Delaware. 

Lord Howe and his brother sought to profit by the general dis- 
may and despondency. A proclamation, dated 30th of November, 
commanded all persons in arms against His Majesty's government 
to disband and return home, and all Congresses to desist from 
treasonable acts : offering a free pardon to all who should comply 
within fifty days. Many who had been prominent in the cause 
hastened to take advantage of this proclamation. Those who had 
most property to lose were the first to submit. The middle ranks 
remained generally steadfast. 

In this dark day of peril to the cause and to himself, Washing- 
ton remained firm and undaunted. In casting about for some 
stronghold where he might make a desperate stand for the liber- 
ties of his country, his thoughts reverted to the mountain regions 
of his early campaigns. General Mercer was at hand, who had 
shared his perils among these mountains, and his presence may 
have contributed to bring them to his mind. "What think you," 
said Washington ; " if we should retreat to the back parts of Penn- 
sylvania, would the Pennsylvanians support us?" 

" If the lower counties give up, the back counties will do the 
same," was the discouraging reply. 

^'We must then retire to Augusta County in Virginia," said 



250 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Washington. "Numbers will repair to us for safety, and we 
will try a predatory war. If overpowered, we must cross the 
Alleghanies." 

Such was the indomitable spirit, rising under difficulties, and 
buoyant in the darkest moment, that kept our tempest-tost cause 
from foundering. 

Lee taken Prisoner. — Notwithstanding the repeated and press- 
ing orders and entreaties of the commander-in-chief, it was not 
until the 4th of December that Lee crossed the Hudson and began 
a laggard march, though aware of the imminent peril of Washing- 
ton and his army. In the meantime, Washington had profited 
by a delay of the enemy at Brunswick, and removed most of the 
stores and baggage of the army across the Delaware j and being 
reinforced by fifteen hundred Pennsylvania militia, prepared to 
face about, and march back to Princeton with such of his troops 
as were fit for service, there to be governed by circumstances, and 
the movements of General Lee. Accordingly, on the 5 th of 
December he sent about twelve hundred men in the advance, to 
reinforce Lord Stirling, and the next day set off himself with the 
residue. But Lee had no idea of conforming to a general plan ; 
he had an independent plan of his own, and was at that moment 
at Pompton, indulging speculations on military greatness, and the 
lamentable want of it in his American contemporaries. In a letter 
from that place to Governor Cooke of Rhode Island, he imparts 
his notions on the subject. "Theory joined to practice, or a 
heaven-born genius, can alone constitute a general. As to the 
latter, God Almighty indulges the modern world very rarely with 
the spectacle ; and I do not know, from what I have seen, that he 
has been more profuse of this ethereal spirit to the Americans, than 
to other nations." 

While Lee was thus loitering and speculating, Cornwallis, know- 
ing how far he was in the rear, and how weak was the situation of 
Washington's army, made a forced march from Brunswick and 
was within two miles of Princeton. Stirling, to avoid being sur- 
rounded, immediately set out for Trenton. Washington, too, 
receiving intelligence of these movements, hastened back to that 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 251 

place, and caused boats to be collected from all quarters, and the 
stores and troops transported across the Delaware. He himself 
crossed with the rear-guard on Sunday morning, and took up his 
quarters about a mile from the river; causing the boats to be 
destroyed, and troops to be posted opposite the fords. He was 
conscious, however, as he said, that with his small force he could 
make no great opposition, should the enemy bring boats with 
them. Fortunately, they did not come thus provided. 

The rear-guard had barely crossed the river, when Lord Corn- 
wallis came marching down with all the pomp of war, in great 
expectation of getting boats, and immediately pursuing. Not one 
was to be had there or elsewhere ; for Washington had caused the 
boats, for an extent of seventy miles up and down the river, to be 
secured on the right bank. His lordship was effectually brought 
to a stand. He made some moves with two columns, as if he 
would cross the Delaware above and below, either to push on to 
Philadelphia, or to entrap Washington in the acute angle made by 
the bend of the river opposite Bordentown. An able disposition 
of American troops along the upper part of the river, and of a 
number of galleys below, discouraged any attempt of the kind. 
Cornwallis, therefore, gave up the pursuit, distributed the German 
troops in cantonments along the left bank of the river, and sta- 
tioned his main force at Brunswick, trusting to be able before long 
to cross the Delaware on the icei 

Putnam was now detached to take command of Philadelphia, 
and put it in a state of defence ; and Congress hastily adjourned 
on the 1 2th of December, to meet again on the 20th, at Baltimore. 

Washington's whole force at this time was about five thousand 
five hundred men ; one thousand of them Jersey militia, fifteen 
hundred militia from Philadelphia, and a battalion of five hundred 
of the German yeomanry of Pennsylvania. Gates, however, was 
coming on with seven regiments detached by Schuyler from the 
northern department. 

Three of these regiments descended the Hudson to Peekskill, 
and were ordered by Lee to Morristown. Gates had embarked with 
the remaining four, and landed with them at Esopus, whence he 



252 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

took a back route by the Delaware and the Minismk. On the 
nth of December, he was detained by a heavy snow storm, m a 
sequestered valley near the Wallpeck in New Jersey. Being cut 
off from all information respecting the adverse armies, he detached 
Major Wilkinson to seek Washington's camp, with a letter, stating 
the force under his command, and inquiring what route he should 
take. Wilkinson crossed the hills on horseback to Sussex court- 
house, took a guide, and proceeded down the country. Washing- 
ton, he soon learnt, had passed the Delaware several days before : 
the boats, he was told, had been removed from the ferries, so that 
he would find some difficulty in getting over, but Major-general 
Lee was at Morristown. Finding such obstacles in his way to the 
commander-in-chief, he determined to seek the second in com- 
mand, and ask orders from him for General Gates. Lee had de- 
camped from Morristown on the 12th of December, but had 
marched no further than Vealtown, barely eight miles distant. 
There he left General Sullivan with the troops, while he took up 
his quarters three miles off, at a tavern, at Baskingridge. As there 
was not a British cantonment within twenty miles, he took but a 
small guard for his protection, thinking himself perfectly secure. 

At about four o'clock in the morning, Wilkinson arrived at his 
quarters. He was presented to the general as he lay in bed, and 
delivered into his hands the letter of General Gates. Lee, observ- 
ing it was addressed to Washington, declined opening it, until 
apprised by Wilkinson of its contents, and the motives of his visit. 
He then broke the seal, and recommended Wilkinson to take 
repose. The latter lay down on his blanket, before a comfortable 
fire, among the officers of his suite ; " for we were not encumbered 
in those days," says he, "with beds or baggage." Lee, naturally 
indolent, lingered in bed until eight o'clock. He then came 
down in his usual slovenly style, half-dressed, in slippers and 
blanket coat, his collar open, and his linen apparently of some 
days' wear. After some inquiries about the campaign in the 
North, he gave Wilkinson a brief account of the operations of the 
main army, which he condemned in strong terms, and in his usual 
sarcastic way. Colonel Scammel, the adjutant-general, called 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 



253 



from General Sullivan for orders concerning the morning march. 
After musing a moment or two, Lee asked him if he had a manu- 
script map of the country. It was produced, and spread upon the 
table. Wilkinson obsei^ed Lee trace with- his finger the route 
from Vealtown to Pluckamin, thence to Somerset court-house, and 
on, by Rocky Hill, to Princeton ; he then returned to Pluckamin, 
and traced the route in the same manner by Boundbrook to 
Brunswick, and after a close inspection carelessly said to Scammel, 
'' Tell General Sullivan to move down towards Pluckamin ; that I 
will soon be with him." This, observes Wilkinson, was off his 
route to Alexandria on the Delaware, where he had been ordered 
to cross, and directly on that towards Brunswick and Princeton. 
He was convinced, therefore, that Lee meditated an attack on the 
British post at the latter place. From these various delays they 
did not sit down to breakfast before ten o'clock. After breakfast 
Lee sat writing a reply to General Gates, in which, as usual, he 
indulged in sarcastic comments on the commander-in-chief. 
While Lee was writing, Wilkinson was looking out of a window 
down a lane, about a hundred yards in length, leading from the 
house to the main road. Suddenly a party of British dragoons 
turned a corner of the avenue at full charge. - Here, sir, are the 
British cavalry ! " exclaimed Wilkinson. 

"Where?" rephed Lee, who had just signed his letter. 

"Around the house!" — for they had opened file and sur- 
rounded it. 1 i- :i » 

"Where is the guard? the guard, why don't they fire? 

Then after a momentary pause — " Do, sir, see what has become 

of the guard." 

The guards, alas, unwary as their general, and chilled by the air 
of a frosty morning, had stacked their arms, and repaired to the 
south side of a house on the opposite side of the road to sun 
themselves, and were now chased by the dragoons m different 
directions. In fact, a Tory, who had found where Lee was to lodge 
and breakfast, had ridden eighteen miles in the night, to Bruns- 
wick, and given the information, and had piloted back Colonel 
Harcourt with his dragoons. 



254 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The women of the house would fain have concealed Lee in a 
bed, but he rejected the proposition with disdain. Wilkinson, 
according to his own account, posted himself in a place where 
only one person could approach at a time, and there took his 
stand, a pistol in each hand, resolved to shoot the first and second 
assailant, and then appeal to his sword. While in this " unpleas- 
ant situation," as he terms it, he heard a voice declare, " If the 
general does not surrender in five minutes, I will set fire to the 
house ! " After a short pause the threat was repeated, with a 
solemn oath. Within two minutes he heard it proclaimed, " Here 
is the general, he has surrendered." 

There was a shout of triumph, but a great hurry to make sure 
of the prize before the army should arrive to the rescue. A trum- 
pet sounded the recall to the dragoons, who were chasing the scat- 
tered guards. The general, bareheaded, and in his shppers and 
blanket coat, was mounted on Wilkinson's horse, which stood at 
the door, and the troop clattered off with their prisoner to Bruns- 
wick. In three hours the booming of the cannon in that direction 
told the exultation of the enemy. They boasted of having taken 
the American Palladium ; for they considered Lee the most scien- 
tific and experienced of the rebel generals. 

On the departure of the troops, Wilkinson, finding the coast 
clear, ventured from his stronghold, repaired to the stable, mounted 
the first horse he could find, and rode full speed in quest of Gen- 
eral Sullivan, whom he found under march toward Pluckamin. 
He handed him the letter to Gates, written by Lee the moment 
before his capture, and still open. Sullivan having read it, returned 
it to Wilkinson, and advised him to rejoin General Gates without 
delay : for his own part, being now in command, he changed his 
route, and pressed forward to join the commander-in-chief. 

Wilkinson, who was at that time conversant with the cabals of 
the camp, points out what he considers the true secret of Lee's 
conduct. His military reputation, originally very high, had been 
enhanced of late, by its being generally believed that he had been 
opposed to the occupation of Fort Washington ; while the fall of 
that fortress and other misfortunes of the campaign, though beyond 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 255 

the control of the commander-in-chief, had quickened the discon- 
tent which, according to Wilkinson, had been generated against 
him at Cambridge, and raised a party against him in Congress. 
In this temper of the times, if General Lee had anticipated Gen- 
eral Washington in cutting the cordon of the enemy between New 
York and the Delaware, the commander-in-chief would probably 
have been superseded. In this case Lee would have succeeded 
him. What an unfortunate change would it have been for the 
country ! 

Victory at Trenton. — Congress, prior to their adjournment, 
had resolved that ''until they should otherwise order. General 
Washington should be possessed of all power to order and direct 
all things relative to the department and to the operations of war." 
Thus empowered, he proceeded immediately to recruit three bat- 
talions of artillery. The promise of increased pay and bounties 
had kept together for a time the dissolving army. The local mili- 
tia began to turn out freely. Colonel John Cadwalader, a gentle- 
man of gallant spirit, and cultivated mind and manners, brought a 
large volunteer detachment, well equipped, and composed princi- 
pally of Philadelphia troops. Washington, who held Cadwalader 
in high esteem, assigned him an important station at Bristol, with 
Colonel Reed, who was his intimate friend, as an associate. They 
had it in charge to keep a watchful eye upon Count Donop's Hes- 
sians, who were cantoned along the opposite shore from Borden- 
town to the Black Horse. 

On the 20th of December arrived General Sullivan in camp, 
with the troops recently commanded by the unlucky Lee. They 
were in a miserable plight ; destitute of almost everything ; many 
of them fit only for the hospital, and those whose terms were 
nearly out, thinking of nothing but their discharge. About four 
hundred of them, who were Rhode Islanders, were sent down to 
reinforce Cadwalader, who was now styled brigadier-general by 
courtesy, lest the continental troops might object to act under his 
command. 

On the same day arrived General Gates, with the remnants of 
four regiments from the Northern army. "When the divisions 



256 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of Sullivan and Gates joined General Washington," writes Wilkin- 
son, " he found his numbers increased, yet his difficulties were not 
sensibly diminished ; ten days would disband his corps and leave 
him fourteen hundred men, miserably provided in all things. 
I saw him in that gloomy period ; dined with him, and attentively 
marked his aspect ; always grave and thoughtful, he appeared at 
that time pensive and solemn in the extreme." 

There were vivid schemes forming under that solemn aspect. 
The time seemed now propitious for a coup de main which Washing- 
ton had of late been meditating. Everything showed careless con- 
fidence on the part of the enemy. Howe was in winter quarters 
at New York. His troops were loosely cantoned about the Jer- 
seys, from the Delaware to Brunswick, so that they could not read- 
ily be brought to act in concert on a sudden alarm. The Hessians 
were in the advance, stationed along the Delaware, facing the 
American hues, which were along the west bank. CornwalHs, 
thinking his work accomplished, had obtained leave of absence, 
and was likewise at New York, preparing to embark for England. 
Washington had now between five and six thousand men fit for 
service ; with these he meditated crossing the river at night, at 
different points, and making simultaneous attacks upon the Hes- 
sian advance posts. 

A brigade of three Hessian regiments was stationed at Trenton. 
Colonel Rahl had the command of the post at his own solicitation, 
and in consequence of the laurels he had gained at White Plains 
and Fort Washington. Rumors that the Americans meditated an 
attack had aroused the vigilance of the colonel, and on the 21st of 
December he had reconnoitered the banks of the Delaware, with a 
strong detachment, quite to Frankfort, to see if there were any 
movements of the Americans indicative of an intention to cross 
the river. He had returned without seeing any; but had since 
caused pickets and alarm posts to be stationed every night outside 
the town. Such was the posture of affairs at Trenton at the time 
the coup de 7nain was meditated. 

Whatever was to be done, however, must be done quickly, before 
the river was frozen. An intercepted letter had convinced Wash- 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 257 

ington of what he had before suspected, that Howe was only wait- 
ing for that event to resume active operations, cross the river on 
the ice, and push triumphantly to Philadelphia. 

He communicated his project to Gates, and wished him to go to 
Bristol, take command there, and co-operate from that quarter. 
Gates, however, pleaded ill health, and requested leave to proceed 
to Philadelphia. The request may have surprised Washington, con- 
sidering the spirited enterprise that was on foot ; but Gates, as has 
before been observed, had a disinclination to serve immediately 
under the commander-in-chief; like Lee, he had a disparaging 
opinion of him, or rather an impatience of his supremacy. He 
had, moreover, an ulterior object in view. Having been disap- 
pointed and chagrined, in finding himself subordinate to General 
Schuyler in the Northern campaign, he was now intent on making 
interest among the members of Congress for an independent com- 
mand. He set out thence for Baltimore on the 24th of December, 
the very day before that of the intended coup de main. He pre- 
vailed on Wilkinson to accompany him as far as Philadelphia. On 
the road he appeared to be much depressed in spirits ; but reheved 
himself, like Lee, by criticising the plans of the commander-in- 
chief. " He frequently," writes Wilkinson, " expressed the opin- 
ion that, while Washington was watching the enemy above Trenton, 
they would construct bateaux, pass the Delaware in his rear, and 
take possession of Philadelphia before he was aware ; and that, 
instead of vainly attempting to stop General Howe at the Dela- 
ware, General Washington ought to retire to the south of the Sus- 
quehanna, and there form an army. He said it was his inten- 
tion to propose this measure to Co7igress at Baitimore, and urged 
me to accompany him to that place ; but my duty forbade the 
thought." 

Here we have somewhat of a counterpart to Lee's project of 
eclipsing the commander-in-chief. Evidently the two military 
veterans who had once been in conclave with him at Mount Ver- 
non considered the truncheon of command falling from his grasp. 

The projected attack upon the Hessian posts was to be three- 
fold. 



258 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

I St. Washington was to cross the Delaware with a considerable 
force, at McKonkey's Ferry (now Taylorsville), about nine miles 
above Trenton, and march down upon that place, where Rahl's 
cantonment comprised a brigade of fifteen hundred Hessians, a 
troop of British light horse, and a number of chasseurs. 

2d. General Ewing, with a body of Pennsylvania militia, was to 
cross at a ferry about a mile below Trenton ; secure the bridge 
over the Assunpink creek, a stream flowing along the south side of 
the town, and cut off any retreat of the enemy in that direction. 

3d. General Putnam, with the troops occupied in fortifying 
Philadelphia, and those under General Cadwalader, was to cross 
below Burlington, and attack the lower posts under Count Donop. 
The several divisions were to cross the Delaware at night, so as to 
be ready for simultaneous action, by five o'clock in the morning. 

Seldom is a combined plan carried into full operation. Symp- 
toms of an insurrection in Philadelphia, obliged Putnam to remain 
with some force in that city ; but he detached five or six hundred 
of the Pennsylvania militia under Colonel Griffin, his adjutant- 
general, who threw himself into the Jerseys, to be at hand to co- 
operate with Cadwalader. 

Early on the eventful evening (Dec. 25th), the troops destined 
for Washington's part of the attack, about two thousand four hun- 
dred strong, with a train of twenty small pieces, were paraded near 
McKonkey's Ferry, ready to pass as soon as it grew dark, in the 
hope of being all on the other side by twelve o'clock. Washing- 
ton repaired to the ground accompanied by Generals Greene, Sul- 
livan, Mercer, Stephen, and Lord Stirling. Greene was full of 
ardor for the enterprise ; eager, no doubt, to wipe out the recollec- 
tion of Fort Washington. It was, indeed, an anxious moment for 
all. 

We have here some circumstances furnished to us by the me- 
moirs of Wilkinson. That officer had returned from Philadelphia, 
and brought a letter from Gates to Washington. There was some 
snow on the ground, and he had traced the march of the troops 
for the last few miles by the blood from the feet of those whose 
shoes were broken. Being directed to Washington's quarters, he 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 259 

found him, he says, alone, with his whip in his hand, prepared to 
mount his horse. " When I presented the letter of General Gates 
to him, before receiving it, he exclaimed with solemnity, — ' What 
a time is this to hand me letters ! ' I answered that I had been 
charged with it by General Gates. ' By General Gates ! Where 
is he ? ' 'I left him this morning in Philadelphia.' ' What was 
he doing there ? ' 'I understood him that he was on his way to 
Congress.' He earnestly repeated, '■ On his way to Congress ! ' 
then broke the seal, and I made my bow, and joined General 
St. Clair on the bank of the river." 

Did Washington surmise the incipient intrigues and cabals, 
that were already aiming to undermine him ? Had Gates' eager- 
ness to push on to Congress, instead of remaining with the army 
in a moment of daring enterprise, suggested any doubts as to his 
object? Perhaps not. Washington's nature was too noble to be 
suspicious, and yet he had received sufficient cause to be dis- 
trustful. 

Boats being in readiness, the troops began to cross about sunset. 
The weather was intensely cold ; the wind was high, the current 
strong, the river full of floating ice. Colonel Glover, with his 
amphibious regiment of Marblehead fishermen, was in advance. 
They were men accustomed to battle with the elements, yet with 
all their skill and experience, the crossing was difficult and perilous. 
Washington, who had crossed with the troops, stood anxiously, 
yet patiently, on the eastern bank, while one precious hour after 
another elapsed, until the transportation of the artillery should be 
eff'ected. The night was dark and tempestuous, the drifting ice 
drove the boats out of their course, and threatened them with 
destruction. Colonel Knox, who attended to the crossing of the 
artillery, assisted with his labors, but still more with his " stentorian 
lungs," giving orders and directions. 

It was three o'clock before the artillery was landed, and nearly 
four before the troops took up their line of march. Trenton was 
nine miles distant, and not to be reached before daylight. Wash- 
ington formed the troops into two columns. The first he led 
himself, accompanied by Greene, Stirling, Mercer, and Stephen ; 



260 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

it was to make a circuit by the upper or Pennington road, to the 
north of Trenton. The other, led by SulUvan, and inckiding the 
brigade of St. Clair, was to take the lower river road, leading 
to the west end of the town. Sullivan's column was to halt a few 
moments at a cross-road leading to Rowland's Ferry, to give 
Washington's column time to effect its circuit, so that the attack 
might be simultaneous. On arriving at Trenton, they were to 
force the outer guards, and push directly into the town before the 
enemy had time to form. 

The situation of Washington was more critical than he was 
aware. Notwithstanding the secrecy with which his plans had 
been conducted, Colonel Rahl had received a warning from Gen- 
eral Grant, at Princeton, of the intended attack, and of the very 
time it was to be made, but stating that it was to be made by a 
detachment under Lord Stirling. Rahl was accordingly put on 
the alert. But it so happened that about dusk of the preceding 
evening, alarm guns were fired at the Trenton outpost. The whole 
garrison was instantly drawn out under arms, and Colonel Rahl 
hastened to the outpost. It was found in confusion, and six men 
wounded. A body of men had emerged from the woods, fired 
upon the picket, and immediately retired. Colonel Rahl, with 
two companies and a field-piece, marched through the woods, and 
made the rounds of the outposts, but seeing and hearing nothing, 
and finding all quiet, returned. Supposing this to be the attack 
against which he had been warned, and that it was " a mere flash 
in the pan," he relapsed into his feeling of security ; and, as the 
night was cold and stormy, permitted the troops to return to their 
quarters and lay aside their arms. Thus the garrison and its 
unwary commander slept in fancied security, at the very time that 
Washington and his troops were making their toilsome way across 
the Delaware. 

It began to hail and snow as the troops commenced their march, 
and increased in violence as they advanced, the storm driving the 
sleet in their faces. So bitter was the cold that two of the men 
were frozen to death that night. The day dawned by the time 
Sullivan halted at the cross-road. It was discovered that the storm 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 261 

had rendered many of the muskets wet and useless. " What is to 
be done? " inquired SulHvan of St. Clair. "You have nothing for 
it but to push on, and use the bayonet," was the reply. While 
some of the soldiers were endeavoring to clean their muskets, 
Sullivan dispatched an officer to apprise the commander-in-chief 
of the condition of their arms. He came back half dismayed 
by an indignant burst of Washington, who ordered him to return 
instantly and tell General Sullivan to " advance and charge." 

It was about eight o'clock when Washington's column arrived 
in the vicinity of the village. The storm, which had rendered the 
march intolerable, had kept every one within doors, and the snow 
had deadened the tread of the troops and the rumbling of the 
artillery. As they approached the village, Washington, who was 
in front, came to a man who was chopping wood by the roadside, 
and inquired, "Which way is the Hessian picket?" "I don't 
know," was the surly reply. "You may tell," said Captain Forest 
of the artillery, " for that is General Washington." The aspect of 
the man changed in an instant. Raising his hands to heaven, 
" God bless and prosper you ! " cried he. " The picket is in that 
house, and the sentry stands near that tree." 

The advance guard was led by a brave young officer. Captain 
William Washington, seconded by Lieutenant James Monroe (in 
after years President of the United States). They received orders 
to dislodge the picket, who came very near being entrapped in 
the guard-house. He at first made a stand, thinking he had a 
mere marauding party to deal with ; but seeing heavy battalions at 
hand, got out of the way as quickly as possible. By this time the 
American artillery was unlimbered ; Washington kept beside it, 
and the column proceeded. The report of fire-arms told that 
Sullivan was at the lower end of the town. Colonel Stark led his 
advance guard, and did it in gallant style. The attacks, as con- 
certed, were simultaneous. The outposts were driven in ; they 
retreated, firing from behind houses. The Hessian drums beat to 
arms ; the trumpets of the light horse sounded the alarm ; the 
whole place was in an uproar. Some of the enemy made a wild 
and undirected fire from the windows of their quarters ; others 



262 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

nished forth in disorder, and attempted to form in the main street, 
while dragoons hastily mounted, and galloping about, added to the 
confusion. Washington advanced with his column to the head 
of King Street, riding beside Captain Forest of the artillery. When 
Forest's battery of six guns was opened, the general kept on the 
left and advanced with it, giving directions to the fire. His posi- 
tion was an exposed one, and he was repeatedly entreated to fall 
back ; but all such entreaties were useless, when once he became 
heated in action. 

The enemy were training a couple of cannon in the main street 
to form a battery, which might have given the Americans a serious 
check ; but Captain W^ashington and Lieutenant Monroe, with a 
part of the advanced guard, rushed forward, drove the artillerists 
from their guns, and took the two pieces when on the point of 
being fired. Both of these officers were wounded ; the captain 
in the wrist, the lieutenant in the shoulder. 

While Washington advanced on the north of the town, Sullivan 
approached on the west, and detached Stark to press on the lowei 
or south end of the town. The British light horse, and about five 
hundred Hessians and chasseurs, had been quartered in the lower 
part of the town. Seeing Washington's column pressing in front, 
and hearing Stark thundering in their rear, they took headlong 
flight by the bridge across the Assunpink, and so along the banks 
of the Delaware toward Count Donop's encampment at Borden- 
town. Had Washington's plan been carried into full effect, their 
retreat would have been cut off by General Ewing ; but that officer 
had been prevented from crossing the river by the ice. 

Colonel Rahl completely lost his head in the confusion of the 
surprise. With some difficulty he succeeded in extricating his 
troops from the town, and leading them into an, adjacent orchard. 
Now was the time, if ever, for him to have pushed for another 
place, there to make a stand. A rapid retreat by the Princeton 
road was apparently in his thoughts ; but he lacked decision. The 
idea of flying before the rebels was intolerable. Some one too 
exclaimed at the ruinous loss of leaving all their baggage to be 
plundered by the enemy. Changing his mind, he made a rash 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 263 

resolve. " All who are my grenadiers, forward ! " cried he, and 
went back like a storm upon the town. He led his grenadiers 
bravely but rashly on, when, in the midst of his career, he received 
a fatal wound from a musket ball, and fell from his horse. His 
men, left without their chief, were struck with dismay, and retreated 
by the right, — up the banks of the Assunpink, intending to escape 
to Princeton. Washington saw their design, and threw Colonel 
Hand's corps of Pennsylvania riflemen in their way ; while a body 
of Virginia troops gained their left. Thus brought to a stand, and 
perfectly bewildered, the men grounded their arms and surrendered 
at discretion. 

The number of prisoners taken in this affair was nearly one 
thousand, of whom thirty-two were officers. Washington's triumph, 
however, was impaired by the failure of the two simultaneous at- 
tacks. General Ewing, who was to have crossed before day at 
Trenton Ferry, and taken possession of the bridge leading out of 
the town, over which the light horse and Hessians retreated, was 
prevented by the quantity of ice in the river. Cadwalader was 
hindered by the same obstacle. He got part of his troops over, 
but found it impossible to embark his cannon, and was obliged, 
therefore, to return to the Pennsylvania side of the river. Had 
he and Ewing crossed, Donop's quarters would have been beaten 
up, and the fugitives from Trenton intercepted. 

By the failure of this part of his plan, Washington had been 
exposed to imminent hazard. The force with which he had 
crossed, twenty-four hundred men, raw troops, was not enough to 
cope with the veteran garrison, had it been properly on its guard ; 
and then there were the troops under Donop at hand to co-operate 
with it. Nothing saved him but the utter panic of the enemy, and 
their exaggerated idea of his forces; for one of their journals 
states that Washington had with him fifteen thousand men, and 
another, six thousand. Even now that the place was in his posses- 
sion he dared not linger in it. There was a superior force under 
Donop below him, and a strong battalion of infantry at Princeton. 
His own troops were exhausted by the operations of the night 
and morning, and they had to guard about a thousand prisoners. 



264 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Washington, therefore, determined to recross the Delaware with 
his prisoners and captured artillery. 

The cannonade in Trenton on the morning of the 26th had 
been distinctly heard at Cadwalader's camp at Bristol. Imper- 
fect tidings of the result reached there about eleven o'clock, and 
produced the highest exultation and excitement. Cadwalader 
made another attempt to cross the river and join Washington, 
whom he supposed to be still in New Jersey, following up the 
blow he had struck. He could not effect the passage of the river 
until mid-day of the 27th, when he received from Washington a 
detailed account of his success, and of his having recrossed into 
Pennsylvania. Cadwalader was now in a dilennna. Donop's 
forces were equal, if not superior in number to his own, and 
veterans instead of raw militia. But then there was the glory of 
rivalling the exploit at Trenton, and the importance of following 
out the effort for the rehef of the Jerseys, and the salvation of 
Philadelphia. Besides, Washington, in all probability, after dis- 
posing of his prisoners, had again crossed into the Jerseys and 
might be acting offensively. 

Reed relieved Cadwalader from his dilemma, by proposing that 
they should push on to Burlington, and there determine, accord- 
ing to inteUigence, whither to proceed next. 

As they approached Burlington they found the place deserted. 
There was no smoke, nor any sign of a human being. From the 
country people in the neighborhood they received an explanation. 
As soon as Count Donop had heard of the disaster at Trenton, he 
immediately began a retreat in the utmost panic and confusion, 
calling in his guards and parties as he hurried forward. Colonel 
Reed, who was in the advance, sent back intelligence of this to 
Cadwalader, and still pushed on with his companions. As they 
rode along, they observed the inhabitants pulling down red rags 
which had been nailed to their doors ; Tory signs to insure good 
will from the British. Arrived at Bordentown not an enemy was 
to be seen ; the fugitives from Trenton had spread a panic on the 
26th, and the Hessians and their refugee adherents had fled in 
confusion, leaving their sick behind them. 



FJi:ST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 265 

Reed and Cadwalader now wrote to Washington, urging him to 
recross the river, and pursue the advantages already gained. Donop 
might be overtaken before he could reach Princeton or Brunswick, 
where the enemy were yet in force. Washington needed no prompt- 
ing of the kind. Bent upon following up his blow, he had barely 
allowed his troops a day or two to recover from recent exposure 
and fatigue, that they might have strength and spirit to pursue the 
retreating enemy and entirely reverse affairs in New Jersey. He 
himself had crossed on the 29th of December, but it took two days 
more to get the troops and artillery over the icy river, and that with 
great labor and difficulty. And now came a perplexity. With the 
year expired the term of several regiments, which had seen most 
service, and become inured to danger. Knowing how indispensa- 
ble were such troops to lead on those which were raw and undisci- 
plined, Washington had them paraded and invited to re-enlist. It 
was a difficult task to persuade them. They were haggard with 
fatigue, and hardship and privation of every kind ; and their 
hearts yearned for home. By the persuasions of their officers, 
however, and a bounty of ten dollars, the greater proportion of 
those from the eastward were induced to remain six weeks longer. 

Hard money was necessary in this emergency. How was it to 
be furnished? On the 30th, Washington wrote by express to 
Robert Morris, the patriot financier at Philadelphia, whom he 
knew to be eager that the blow should be followed up. " If you 
could possibly collect a sum, if it were but one hundred, or 
hundred and fifty pounds, it would be of service." Morris re- 
ceived the letter in the evening. He was at his wit's end to 
raise the sum, for hard money was scarce. Fortunately a wealthy 
Quaker in this moment of exigency supplied the "sinews of war," 
and early the next morning the money was forwarded by the 
express. 

At this critical moment, too, Washington received a letter from 
a committee of Congress, transmitting him resolves of that body 
dated the 27th of December, investing him with military powers 
of almost unlimited extent, though it is not accurate to speak of 
them — as some have done — as dictatorial. 



266 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Victory at Princeton. — General Howe, in recognition of his 
successes, had just been made a Knight Commander of the Bath. 
He was taking his ease in winter-quarters at New York, waiting for 
the freezing of the Delaware to pursue his triumphant march to 
Philadelphia, when tidings were brought him of the surprise and 
capture of the Hessians at Trenton. He instantly stopped Lord 
Cornwalhs, who was on the point of embarking for England, and 
sent him back in all haste to resume the command in New Jersey. 

The ice in the Delaware impeded the crossing of the American 
troops, and gave the British time to draw in their scattered can- 
tonments and assemble their whole force at Princeton. While his 
troops were yet crossing, Washington learned that Lord Cornwallis 
had joined General Grant the day before at Princeton, with a 
reinforcement of chosen troops. They had now seven or eight 
thousand men, and were pressing wagons for a march upon Tren- 
ton. It was also said that Sir William Howe was on the march 
with a thousand light troops, with which he had landed at Amboy. 

The situation of Washington was growing critical. The enemy 
were beginning to advance their large pickets towards Trenton. 
Everything indicated an approaching attack. Washington accord- 
ingly chose a position for his main body on the east side of the 
Assunpink. There was a narrow stone bridge across it, where the 
water was very deep — the same bridge over which part of Rahl's 
brigade had escaped in the recent affair. He planted his artillery 
so as to command the bridge and the fords. His advance guard 
was stationed abqut three miles off in a wood, having in front a 
stream called Shabbakong Creek. 

Early on the morning of the 2d, came certain word that Corn- 
wallis was approaching with all his force. Strong parties were sent 
out under General Greene, who skirmished with the enemy and 
harassed them in their advance. By twelve o'clock they reached 
the Shabbakong, and halted for a time on its northern bank. 
Then crossing it, and moving forward with rapidity, they drove 
the advance guard out of the woods, and pushed on until they 
reached a high ground near the town. Here Hand's corps of 
several battalions was drawn up, and held them for a time in 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 267 

check. All the parties in advance ultimately retreated to the main 
body, on the east side of the Assunpink, and found some difficulty 
in crowding across the narrow bridge. 

From all these checks and delays, it was nearly sunset before 
Cornwallis with the head of his army entered Trenton. His rear- 
guard under General Leslie rested about six miles distant, half 
way between Trenton and Princeton. Forming his troops into 
columns, he now made repeated attempts to cross the Assunpink 
at the bridge and the fords, but was as often repulsed by the 
artillery. For a part of the time Washington, mounted on a white 
horse, stationed himself at the south end of the bridge, issuing 
his orders. Each time the enemy was repulsed there was a shout 
along the American hues. At length they drew off, came to a halt, 
and lighted their camp fires. The Americans did the same, using 
the neighboring fences for the purpose. Sir William Erskine, who 
was with Cornwallis, urged him, it is said, to attack Washington 
that evening in his camp ; but his lordship declined ; he felt sure of 
the game which had so often escaped him ; he had at length, he 
thought, got Washington into a situation from which he could not 
escape, but where he might make a desperate stand, and he was 
willing to give his wearied troops a night's repose to prepare them 
for the closing struggle. He would be sure, he said, to " bag the 
fox in the morning." 

A cannonade was kept up on both sides until dark ; but with 
httle damage to the Americans. When night closed in, the two 
camps lay in sight of each other's fires, ruminating the bloody 
action of the following day. It was the most gloomy and anxious 
night that had yet closed in on the American army, throughout its 
series of perils and disasters ; for there was no concealing the 
impending danger. What must have been the feelings of the 
commander-in-chief, as he anxiously patrolled his camp and con- 
sidered his dangerous position? A small stream, fordable in sev- 
eral places, was all that separated his raw, inexperienced army, 
from an enemy vastly superior in numbers and discipline. A 
general action with them must be ruinous ; but how was he to 
retreat ? Behind him was the Delaware, impassable from floating 



270 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of Friends. The Americans being nearest reached it first, and 
formed behind a hedge fence which extended along a slope in 
front of the house ; whence being chiefly armed with rifles, they 
opened a destructive fire. It was returned with great spirit by 
the enemy, x^t the first discharge Mercer was dismounted, " his 
gallant gray" being crippled by a musket ball in the leg. One of 
his colonels, also, was mortally wounded and carried to the rear. 
Availing themselves of the confusion thus occasioned, the British 
charged with the bayonet ; the American riflemen were thrown into 
disorder and retreated. Mercer, who was on foot, endeavored to 
rally them, when a blow from the butt end of a musket felled him 
to the ground. He rose and defended himself with his sword, 
but was surrounded, bayoneted repeatedly, and left for dead. 

Mawhood pursued the broken and retreating troops to the brow 
of the rising ground, on which Clark's house was situated, when 
he beheld a large force emerging from a wood and advancing to 
the rescue. It was a body of Pennsylvania militia, which Wash- 
ington, on hearing the firing, had detached to the support of 
Mercer. Mawhood instantly ceased pursuit, drew up his artillery, 
and by a heavy discharge brought the militia to a stand. 

At this moment Washington himself arrived at the scene of 
action, having galloped from the by-road in advance of his troops. 
From a rising ground he beheld Mercer's troops retreating in 
confusion, and the detachment of militia checked by Mawhood's 
artillery. Everything was at peril. Putting spurs to his horse, he 
dashed past the hesitating militia, waving his hat and cheering 
them on. His commanding figure and white horse made him a 
conspicuous object for the enemy's marksmen, but he heeded it 
not. Galloping forward under the fire of Mawhood's battery, he 
called upon Mercer's broken brigade. The Pennsylvanians rallied 
at the sound of his voice, and caught fire from his example. At 
the same time the yth Virginia regiment emerged from the wood, 
and moved forward with loud cheers, while a fire of grape-shot 
was opened by the American artillery, from the brow of a ridge to 
the south. Mawhood, who a moment before had thought his tri- 
umph secure, found himself assailed on every side, and separated 



FIRST GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. in 

from the other British regiments. He fought, however, with great 
bravery, and forcing his way, at the point of the bayonet, through 
gathering foes, retreated in disorder and with heavy loss towards 
Trenton to join Cornwalhs. In the meantime the 55th regiment, 
which had been on the left and nearer Princeton, had been en- 
countered by the American advance guard under General St. Clair, 
and after some sharp fighting in a ravine had given way, and was 
retreating across fields and along a by-road to Brunswick. The 
remaining regiment, the 40th, had not been able to come up in 
time for the action ; a part of it fled toward Brunswick ; the res- 
idue took refuge in the college at Princeton, recently occupied by 
them as barracks. Artillery was now brought to bear on the col- 
lege, and a few shot compelled those within to surrender. 

In this brief but brilliant action, about one hundred of the 
British were left dead on the field, and nearly three hundred 
taken prisoners, fourteen of whom were officers. The loss of the 
Americans was about twenty-five or thirty men and several offi- 
cers. Among the latter was the brave and noble General Mercer, 
who died a few days afterward in the house of Mr. Clark, whither 
he had been conveyed by his aide-de-camp. 

In the pursuit of the routed regiments which were making a 
headlong retreat to Brunswick, Washington took the lead at the 
head of a detachment of cavalry. At Kingston, however, three 
miles to the northeast of Princeton, he pulled up, restrained his 
ardor, and held a council of war on horseback. Should he keep 
on to Brunswick or not ? The capture of the British stores and 
baggage would make his triumph complete ; but, on the other 
hand, his troops were excessively fatigued by their rapid march all 
night and hard fight in the morning. All of them had been one 
night without sleep, and some of them two, and many were half- 
starved. They were without blankets, thinly clad, some of them 
barefooted, and this in freezing weather. Cornwallis would be 
upon them before they could reach Brunswick. His rear-guard, 
under Leslie, had been quartered but six miles from Princeton, 
and the retreating troops must have roused them. Under these 
considerations, it was determined to discontinue the pursuit and 



272 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

push for Morristovvn. There they would be in a mountainous 
country, heavily wooded, in an abundant neighborhood, and on 
the flank of the enemy, with various defiles by which they might 
change their position according to his movements. 

Filing off to the left, therefore, from Kingston, and breaking 
down the bridges behind him, Washington took the narrow road 
by Rocky Hill to Pluckamin. His troops were so exhausted, that 
many in the course of the march would lie down in the woods on 
the frozen ground and fall asleep, and were with difficulty roused 
and cheered fonvard. At Pluckamin he halted for a time, to 
allow them a little repose and refreshment. While they are taking 
breath we will cast our eyes back to the camp of Cornwallis, to 
see what was the effect upon him of this masterly movement of 
Washington. His lordship had retired to rest at Trenton with the 
sportsman's vaunt that he would " bag the fox in the morning." 
Nothing could surpass his surprise and chagrin when at daybreak 
the expiring watchfires and deserted camp of the Americans told 
him that he was outgeneralled and the prize had once more 
evaded his grasp. 

For a time he could not learn whither the army, which had 
stolen away so silently, had directed its stealthy march. By sun- 
rise, however, there was the booming of cannon, like the rumbling 
of distant thunder, in the direction of Princeton. The idea 
flashed upon him that Washington had not merely escaped, but 
was about to make a dash at the British magazines at Brunswick. 
Alarmed for the safety of his miHtary stores, his lordship forthwith 
broke up his camp, and made a rapid march towards Princeton. 
As he arrived in sight of the bridge over Stony Brook, he beheld 
a party of American troops busy in its destruction. A distant 
discharge of round shot from his field-pieces drove them away, 
but the bridge was already broken. It would take time to repair 
it for the passage of the artillery ; so Cornwallis in his impatience 
urged his troops breast-high through the turbulent and icy stream, 
and again pushed forward. Crossing the bridge at Kingston, he 
kept on along the Bmnswick road, supposing Washington still 
before him. The latter had got far in the advance, during the 



FIRS 7' GREAT DEFENSIVE CAMPAIGN. 273 

delay caused by the broken bridge at Stony Brook, and the altera- 
tion of his course at Kingston had carried him completely out of 
the way of Cornwallis. His lordship reached Brunswick towards 
evening, and endeavored to console himself, by the safety of the 
military stores, for being so completely foiled and outmanoeuvred. 

Washington in the meantime continued forward to Morristown, 
where at length he came to a halt from his incessant and harass- 
ing marchings. Colonel Reed was ordered to send out rangers 
and bodies of militia to scour the country, waylay foraging parties, 
cut off supplies, and keep the cantonments of the enemy in a 
state of siege. " I would not suffer a man to stir beyond their 
lines," writes Washington, " nor suffer them to have the least com- 
munication with the country." The situation of Cornwallis be- 
came daily more and more irksome. Spies were in his camp, to 
give notice of every movement, and foes without to take advan- 
tage of it ; so that not a foraging party could sally forth without 
being waylaid. By degrees he drew in his troops which were 
posted about the country, and collected them at New Brunswick 
and Amboy, so as to have a communication by water with New 
York, whence he was now compelled to draw nearly all his 
supplies. 

The recent operations in the Jerseys had suddenly changed the 
whole aspect of the war, and given a triumphant close to what 
had been a disastrous campaign. The troops, which had so long 
been driven from post to post, had all at once turned upon their 
pursuers, and astounded them by brilliant stratagems and daring 
exploits. The commander, whose cautious policy had been sneered 
at by enemies, and regarded with impatience by misjudging friends, 
had all at once shown that he possessed enterprise as well as cir- 
cumspection, energy as well as endurance, and that beneath his 
wary coldness lurked a fire quick to break forth at the proper 
moment. This year's campaign, the most critical one of the war, 
and especially the part of it which occurred in New Jersey, was 
the ordeal that made his great qualities fully appreciated by his 
countrymen, and gained for him from the statesmen and generals 
of Europe the appellation of the American Fabius. 



274 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

§ 6. The Northern Invasion. 

Winter and Spring of 1777. — The British government was 
astonished at the issue of the campaigns which had just closed. 
The plan had been to capture or disperse the American armies 
and to get complete control of Ticonderoga and the city of New 
York, and of the Hudson river between them. There were a 
great many Tories in the city and state of New York ; and it was 
thought that if this state could be thus conquered, it might be easily 
held, and would effectually separate New England and Virginia, 
the two chief centres of the rebellion. The success of the British 
had fallen far short of their expectations. The furious resistance 
of Arnold had so discouraged Carleton that he had refrained from 
attacking Ticonderoga and had withdrawn into winter-quarters. 
At the other end of the line, the army of Washington, instead of 
being captured or dispersed, had ended the campaign with two 
important victories, and now held Sir William Howe in check. 
The new year would call for greater efforts on the part of the 
British. Burgoyne went home to England and spent the winter 
making plans with the king and his ministers. In the spring he 
returned with instructions to conduct the expedition against 
Ticonderoga and down the Hudson, while his superior officer 
General Carleton should stay in Canada. An expedition under 
Colonel Barry St. Leger was to ascend the St. Lawrence to Lake 
Ontario, land at Oswego, and come down the Mohawk valley, 
gathering Tory and Indian recruits, driving the patriots from that 
part of the country, and finally uniting with Burgoyne. Sir William 
Howe was at the same time to ascend the Hudson, capture the 
American forts in the Highlands, and effect a junction with Bur- 
goyne. Such was the British plan for the summer campaign. It 
failed, mainly because Howe never received full and positive 
instructions, and being left to act upon his own discretion, failed 
to co-operate with Burgoyne. 

General Charles Lee was kept in New York as a prisoner during 
the whole of the year 1777, while the king made up his mind what 
should be done with him. As he had once been lieutenant-colonel 



THE NORTHERN INVASION . 275 

in the British army, he was regarded as a deserter, and would 
probably have been shot but for Washington's interference. Wash- 
ington informed Howe that he had selected five of the Hessian 
officers captured at Trenton, and should keep them as hostages 
for Lee's safety. The British government then did not dare to 
put Lee to death for fear of harm to the Hessian officers, which 
would be likely to cause serious disaffection among the German 
troops. But meanwhile Lee, alarmed for his personal safety, tried 
to set himself right with the British by acting the part of a traitor 
toward the Americans. During the winter and spring he plotted 
with Howe and gave him the benefit of all the information he 
possessed, such as might help him in conquering the x\mericans in 
the course of the summer. As usual, the advice of this shallow 
knave was far from sound. He assured Howe that Philadelphia 
was an object of more military importance than the Hudson river. 
In June, Howe tried to reach Philadelphia by crossing the state of 
New Jersey ; but in a wonderful campaign of three weeks' duration, 
with an inferior force and without any serious fighting, Washing- 
ton completely outgeneralled him. Baffled at every turn, Howe 
evacuated New Jersey, and, still guided by the advice of the 
traitor Lee, embarked his army on transports and sailed off to 
Chesapeake Bay, to approach Philadelphia from the south. In 
this way he wasted a great part of the summer, and when he had 
got into Pennsylvania, Washington gave him so much work to do 
that he was never able to be of any use to Burgoyne, who was 
allowed to rush upon his fate unaided. 

During the winter Gates was busy with his intrigues, and the 
enemies of Schuyler and Washington played into his hands. Blows 
were as yet aimed not directly against Washington, but against his 
favorite officers, and the first one fell upon Arnold. In February, 
when five new major-generals were to be appointed, Congress 
passed over Arnold, who was the senior brigadier, and selected 
five officers who were not only his juniors, but conspicuously 
inferior to him in ability. The reason alleged for this gross affront 
was that Connecticut had already two major-generals (Putnam and 
Wooster), and ought not in fairness to have any more ! But the 



276 • LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

real reason was the unwillingness of the Gates party to increase 
the power of the friends of Schuyler and Washington. Though 
proud and irascible in temper, Arnold behaved very well, and 
expressed himself willing to ser\^e under his juniors, but demanded 
an explanation. 

In April, Howe sent a force of two thousand men under General 
Tryon to seize the military stores at Danbury in Connecticut. The 
mihtia turned out under General Wooster, and a skirmish ensued 
in which that veteran officer was slain. Then Arnold came to the 
rescue with six hundred fresh men ; and at Ridgefield there was 
a desperate fight in which "Arnold had two horses shot under 
him. The British were defeated and driven to their ships just in 
time to escape capture. Arnold was now made a major-general, 
and was presented by Congress with a fine horse, but his relative 
rank in the army was not yet restored. 

With these preliminaries, we shall understand the state of things 
at the time when Burgoyne started from Canada on his way to 
Albany. On the i6th of June he set out from St. Johns with an 
army of about nine thousand men, nearly half of them Germans 
from the duchy of Brunswick. Among the officers, generals 
Phillips, Fraser, and the Baron Riedesel were of distinguished 
ability. Some five hundred Indians, mostly Wyandots and 
Ottawas, and as many Canadian provincial troops, accompanied 
the army. With this force Burgoyne advanced southward up Lake 
Champlain. 

On the 2 1 St of June he encamped at the river Bouquet, several 
miles north of Crown Point ; here he gave a war feast to his sav- 
age allies, and made them a speech in that pompous and half 
poetical vein in which it was the absurd practice to address our 
savages, and which was commonly reduced to flat prose by their 
interpreters. At the same time he was strenuous in enjoining 
humanity toward prisoners, dwelling on the difference between 
Ordinary wars carried on against a common enemy, and this against 
a country in rebellion, where the hostile parties were of the same 
blood, and loyal subjects of the Crown might be confounded with 
the rebellious. It was a speech intended to excite their ardor, 



THE NORTHERN INVASION. 277 

but restrain their cruelty, a difficult medium to attain with Indian 
warriors. 

The garrison at Ticonderoga, meanwhile, were anxiously on the 
look-out. Their fortress, built on a hill, commanded an extensive 
prospect over the bright and beautiful lake and its surrounding 
forests, but there were long points and promontories at a distance 
to intercept the view. 

Fall of Ticonderoga. — The enemy came advancing up the 
lake on the 30th, their main body under Burgoyne on the west 
side, the German reserve under Baron Riedesel on the east ; com- 
munication being maintained by frigates and gunboats, which, in 
a manner, kept pace between them. On the ist of July, Burgoyne 
encamped four miles north of Ticonderoga, and began to entrench, 
and to throw a boom across the lake. His advanced guard under 
General Fraser took post at Three Mile Point, and the ships 
anchored just out of gunshot of the fort. Here he issued a proc- 
lamation still more magniloquent than his speech to the Indians, 
denouncing woe to all who should persist in rebellion, and laying 
particular stress upon his means, with the aid of the Indians, to 
overtake the hardiest enemies of Great Britain and America, wher- 
ever they might lurk. 

General St. Clair, who commanded at Ticonderoga, was a gal- 
lant Scotchman, who had seen service in the old French war as 
well as in this, and beheld the force arrayed against him without 
dismay. It is true his garrison did not exceed three thousand five 
hundred men, of whom nine hundred were militia. They were 
badly equipped also, and few had bayonets. St. Clair confided, 
however, in the strength of his position and the works which had 
been constructed in connection with it, and trusted he should be 
able to resist any attempt to take it by storm. Schuyler at this 
time was at Albany, sending up reinforcements of continental 
troops and militia, and awaiting the arrival of further reinforce- 
ments, for which sloops had been sent down to Peekskill. 

Such was the state of affairs in the north, of which Washington 
from time to time had been informed. An attack on Ticonderoga 
appeared to be impending ; but as the garrison was in good heart, 



278 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the commander resolute, and troops were on the way to reinforce 
him, a spirited, and perhaps successful resistance was anticipated 
by Washington. His surprise may therefore be imagined, on 
receiving a letter from Schuyler dated July yth, conveying the 
astounding intelligence that Ticonderoga was evacuated ! 

Schuyler had just received the news at Stillwater on the Hudson 
when on his way with reinforcements for the fortress. The first 
account was so vague that Washington hoped it might prove in- 
correct. It was confirmed by another letter from Schuyler, dated 
on the 9th at Fort Edward. A part of the garrison had been pur- 
sued by a detachment of the enemy as far as Fort Anne in that 
neighborhood, where the latter had been repulsed ; as to St. Clair 
himself and the main part of his forces, they had thrown them- 
selves into the forest, and nothing was known of what had become 
of them ! 

" I am here," writes Schuyler, " at the head of a handful of men, 
not above fifteen hundred, with little ammunition, not above five 
rounds to a man, having neither balls, nor lead to make any. The 
country is in the deepest consternation ; no carriages to remove 
the stores from Fort George, which I expect every moment to hear 
is attacked ; and what adds to my distress is, that a report pre- 
vails that I had given orders for the evacuation of Ticonderoga." 

Washington was totally at loss to account for St. Clair's move- 
ment. To abandon a fortress which he had recently pronounced 
so defensible : and to abandon it apparently without firing a gun ! 
and then the strange uncertainty as to his subsequent fortunes, and 
the whereabouts of himself and the main body of his troops ! 
" The affair," writes Washington, " is so mysterious that it baffles 
conjecture." 

His first attention was to supply the wants of General Schuyler. 
An express was sent to Springfield for musket cartridges, gun- 
powder, lead, and cartridge papers. Ten pieces of artillery with 
harness and proper officers were to be forwarded from Peekskill, 
as well as entrenching tools. Of tents he had none to furnish, 
neither could heavy cannon be spared from the defence of the 
Highlands. 



THE NORTHERN INVASION. 279 

Six hundred recruits, on their march from Massachusetts to 
Peekskill, were ordered to repair to the reinforcement of Schuyler ; 
this was all the force that Washington could venture at this mo- 
ment to send to his aid ; but this addition to his troops, supposing 
those under St. Clair should have come in, and any number of 
militia have turned out, would probably form an army equal, if 
not superior, to that said to be under Burgoyne. Besides, it was 
Washington's idea that the latter would suspend his operations 
until General Howe should make a movement in concert. Sup- 
posing that movement would be an immediate attempt against the 
Highlands, he ordered Sullivan with his division to Peekskill to 
reinforce General Putnam. At the same time he advanced with 
his main army to Pompton, and thence to the Clove, a rugged de- 
file through the Highlands on the west side of the Hudson. Here 
he encamped within eighteen miles of the river, to watch, and be 
at hand to oppose the designs of Sir William Howe, whatever 
might be their direction ; and here we will leave him for the 
present, while we explain the mysterious retreat of General St. 
Clair. 

With all the pains and expense lavished by the Americans to 
render the works at Ticonderoga impregnable, they had strangely 
neglected the master key by which they were all commanded. 
This was Sugar Hill, a rugged height, the termination of a moun- 
tain ridge which separates Lake Champlain from Lake George. 
It stood to the south of Ticonderoga, beyond the narrow channel 
which connected the two lakes, and rose precipitously from the 
waters of Champlain to the height of six hundred feet. It had 
been pronounced by the Americans too distant to be dangerous. 
Colonel Trumbull had proved the contrary in the preceding year, 
by throwing a shot from a six-pounder in the fort nearly to the 
summit. It was then pronounced inaccessible to an enemy. 
This Trumbull had likewise proved to be an error, by clambering 
with Arnold and Wayne to the top, whence they perceived that a 
practicable road for artillery might easily and readily be made. 
Trumbull had insisted that this was the true point for the fort, 
commanding the neighboring heights, the narrow parts of both 



280 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

lakes, and the communication between. A small, but strong fort 
here, with twenty-five heavy guns and five hundred men, would 
be as efficient as one hundred guns and ten thousand men on the 
extensive works of Ticonderoga. His suggestions were disregarded 
by General Gates who was then in command ; their wisdom was 
now to be proved. 

The British General Phillips, on taking his position, had re- 
garded the hill with a practised eye, and measures were instantly 
taken to plant a battery on that height. The British troops were 
busy throughout the day and night cutting a road through rocks 
and trees and up rugged defiles. Cruns, ammunition, and stores, 
were carried up the hill in the night ; the cannon were hauled up 
from tree to tree, and before morning the ground was levelled for 
the battery on which they were to be mounted. To this work, 
thus achieved by a coup de 7nain, they gave the name of Fort 
Defiance. On the 5th of July, to their astonishment and conster- 
nation, the garrison beheld a legion of red-coats on the summit 
of this hill, constructing works which must soon lay the fortress at 
their mercy. 

In this sudden and appalling emergency. General St. Clair 
called a council of war. What was to be done ? The batteries 
from this new fort would probably be opened the next day : by that 
time Ticonderoga might be completely invested, and the whole 
garrison exposed to capture. They had not force sufficient for 
one-half the works, and General Schuyler, supposed to be at 
Albany, could afford them no relief. The danger was imminent ; 
delay might prove fatal. It was unanimously determined to evac- 
uate Ticonderoga that very night, and retreat to Skenesborough 
(now Whitehall), at the upper part of the lake, about thirty miles 
distant, where there was a stockaded fort. The main body of the 
army, led by General St. Clair, were to cross to Mount Independ- 
ence and push for Skenesborough by land, taking a circuitous 
route through the woods on the east side of the lake, by way of 
Castleton. The cannon, stores, and provisions, together with the 
wounded and the women, were to be embarked on board of two 
hundred bateaux, and conducted to the upper extremity of the 





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THE NORTHERN INVASION. 281 

lake, by Colonel Long with six hundred men; two hundred of 
whom in five armed galleys were to form a rear-guard. 

It was now three o'clock in the afternoon ; yet all the prepa- 
rations were to be made for the coming night, and that with as 
little bustle and movement as possible ; for they were overlooked 
by Fort Defiance, and their intentions might be suspected. Every- 
thing was done quietly, but alertly ; in the meantime, to amuse the 
enemy, a cannonade was kept up every half hour toward the new 
battery on the hill. As soon as the evening closed, and their 
movements could not be discovered, they began in all haste to 
load the boats. Such of the cannon as could not be taken were 
ordered to be spiked. In the hurry several were left uninjured. 
The lights in the garrison being previously extinguished, their 
tents were struck and put on board of the boats, and the women 
and the sick embarked. Everything was conducted with such 
silence and address, that, although it was a moonlight night, the 
flotilla departed undiscovered, and was soon under the shadows of 
the mountains and overhanging forests. 

The retreat by land was not conducted with equal discretion 
and mystery. General St. Clair had crossed over the bridge to 
the Vermont side of the lake by three o'clock in the morning, and 
set forward with his advance through the woods toward Hubbard- 
ton ; but, before the rear-guard under Colonel Francis got in 
motion, a house took fire — and the British sentries were aston- 
ished by a conflagration suddenly lighting up Mount Indepen- 
dence, and revealing the American troops in full retreat. 

The drums beat to arms in the British camp. Alarm guns were 
fired. By daybreak Eraser had hoisted the British flag over the 
deserted fortress ; before sunrise he had passed the bridge, and 
was in full pursuit of the American rear-guard. Burgoyne was 
roused from his morning slumbers on board of the frigate Royal 
George by the alarm guns, and a message from Eraser. His meas- 
ures were prompt. General Riedesel was ordered to follow and 
support Eraser with a part of the German troops ; garrisons were 
thrown into Ticonderoga and Mount Independence ; the main 
part of the army was embarked on board of the frigates and gun- 



282 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

boats ; and by nine o'clock Burgoyne set out with his squadron in 
pursuit of the flotilla. 

About three o'clock in the afternoon, the British gunboats hav- 
ing pushed on in advance of the frigates, had overtaken the 
galleys. The latter defended themselves for a while, but at length 
two struck, and three were blown up. The American fugitives 
had succeeded in disembarking, and after some skirmishing 
effected their retreat to Fort Edward, where they gave the alarm 
that the main force of the enemy was close after them, and that 
no one knew what had become of General St. Clair. 

Meanwhile the retreat of the latter through the woods con- 
tinued the first day until night, when he arrived at Castleton, 
thirty miles from Ticonderoga. His rear-guard halted about six 
miles short, at Hubbardton, to await the arrival of stragglers. It 
was composed of three regiments under colonels Seth Warner, 
Francis, and Hale ; in all about thirteen hundred men. Early 
the next morning, while they were taking their breakfast, they 
were startled by the report of fire-arms. Their sentries had dis- 
charged their muskets, and came running in with word that the 
enemy were at hand. 

It was General Eraser, with his advance of eight hundred and 
fifty men, who had pressed forward in the latter part of the night, 
and now attacked the Americans with great spirit, notwithstand- 
ing their superiority in numbers. The Americans met the British 
with equal spirit ; but at the very commencement of the action, 
Colonel Hale, with a detachment placed under his command to 
protect the rear, gave way, leaving Warner and Erancis with but 
seven hundred men to bear the brunt of the battle. These posted 
themselves behind logs and trees in " backwoods " style, whence 
they kept up a destructive fire, and were evidently gaining the 
advantage, when General Riedesel came pressing into the action 
with his German troops, drums beating, and colors flying. There 
was now an impetuous charge with the bayonet. Colonel Erancis 
was among the first who fell, gallantly fighting at the head of his 
men. The Americans gave way and fled, leaving the ground cov- 
ered with their dead and wounded. Their whole loss was up- 



THE NORTHERN INVASION. 283 

wards of three hundred ; that of the enemy one hundred and 
eighty-three. 

The noise of the firing had readied General St. Clair at Castle- 
ton. He immediately sent orders to two militia regiments which 
were in his rear, and within two miles of the battle-ground, to 
hasten to the assistance of his rear-guard. They refused to obey, 
and hurried forward to Castleton. At this juncture St. Clair re- 
ceived information of Burgoyne's arrival at Skenesborough : fear^ 
ing to be intercepted at Fort Anne, he immediately changed his 
route, struck into the woods on his left, and directed his march to 
Rutland, leaving word for Warner to follow him. The latter over- 
took him two days afterwards, with his shattered force reduced to 
ninety men. On the 12th they reached Fort Edward, haggard 
and exhausted by their long retreat through the woods. Such is 
the story of the catastrophe at Ticonderoga, which caused so much 
surprise and concern to Washington, and of the seven days' mys- 
terious disappearance of St. Clair, which kept every one in the 
most painful suspense. 

The loss of artillery, ammunition, provisions, and stores, in 
consequence of the evacuation of these northern posts, was 
prodigious ; but the worst effect was the consternation spread 
throughout the country. A panic prevailed at Albany, the people 
running about as if distracted, sending off their goods and furni- 
ture. The great barriers of the North, it was said, were broken 
through, and there was nothing to check the triumphant career of 
the enemy. The invading army, both officers and men, were 
highly elated with their fortune, -and deemed their prowess to be 
irresisdble. They regarded their enemy with the greatest con- 
tempt, and considered their own toils to be nearly at an end, and 
Albany already in their hands. In England, too, the joy and 
exultation were extreme. 

Washington's Precautions. — Washington continued his anxious 
exertions to counteract the operations of the enemy ; forwarding 
artillery and ammunition to Schuyler, with all the camp furniture 
that could be spared from his own encampment and from Peeks- 
kill, A part of Nixon's brigade was all the reinforcement he could 



284 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

afford in his present situation. " To weaken this army more than 
is prudent," writes he, "would perliaps bring destruction upon it, 
and I look upon the keeping it upon a respectable footing as the 
only means of preventing a junction of Howe's and Burgoyne's 
armies, which, if effected, may have the most fatal consequences." 

Schuyler had earnestly desired the assistance of an active officer 
well acquainted with the country. Washington sent him Arnold. 
" I need not," writes he, " enlarge upon his well-known activity, 
conduct, and bravery. The proofs he has given of all these have 
gained him the confidence of the public and of the army, the 
Eastern troops in particular." The question of rank, about which 
Arnold was so tenacious, was yet unsettled, and though, had his 
promotion been regular, he would have been superior in command 
to St. Clair, he assured Washington that, on the present occasion, 
his claim should create no dispute. 

Schuyler, in the meantime, aided by Kosciuszko the Pole, who 
was engineer in his department, had selected two positions on 
Moses Creek, four miles below Fort Edward, where the troops 
which had retreated from Ticonderoga, and part of the militia, 
were throwing up works. To impede the advance of the enemy, 
he had caused trees to be felled into Wood Creek, so as to render 
it unnavigable, and the roads between Fort Edward and Fort Anne 
to be broken up, the cattle in that direction to be brought away, 
and the forage destroyed. 

Washington ordered that all the vessels and river craft, not re- 
quired at Albany, should be sent down to New Windsor and Fish- 
kill, and kept in readiness ; for he knew not how soon the move- 
ments of General Howe might render it suddenly necessary to 
transport part or the whole of his forces up the Hudson. 

He highly approved of a measure suggested by Schuyler, of 
stationing a body of troops somewhere about the Hampshire 
Grants (Vermont), so as to be in the rear or on the flank of Bur- 
goyne, should he advance. It would keep him in continual anxiety 
for his rear, and oblige him to leave the posts behind him much 
stronger than he would otherwise do. He advised that General 
Lincoln should have the command of the corps thus posted, 



THE NORTHERN INVASION. 285 

But now the attention of the commander-in-chief was called to 
the seaboard. On the 23d of July, Lord Howe's fleet, so long 
the object of watchful solicitude, actually put to sea. The force 
embarked amounted to eighteen thousand men, while seven thou- 
sand were left with Sir Henry Clinton for the protection of New 
York. The destination of the fleet was still a matter of conjec- 
ture, but Washington believed it to be Philadelphia, and accord- 
ingly he now set out with his army for the Delaware, ordering 
Sullivan and Stirling with their divisions to cross the Hudson from 
Peekskill, and proceed towards Philadelphia. Every movement 
and order showed his doubt and perplexity, and the circumspec- 
tion with which he had to proceed. By the first of August he had 
moved his camp to Germantown, about six miles from Philadel- 
Ijhia, to be at hand for the defence of that city. For several days 
he remained there in painful uncertainty about the British fleet ; 
v/hether it had gone to the south or to the east. During this time 
he was frequently in Philadelphia, making himself acquainted with 
the military capabilities of the place and its surrounding country, 
and directing the construction of fortifications on the river. In 
one of these visits he became acquainted with the young Marquis 
de Lafayette, who had recently arrived from France, in company 
with a number of French, Polish, and German officers, among 
whom was the Baron de Kalb. The marquis was not quite twenty 
years of age, yet had already been married nearly three years to a 
lady of rank and fortune. Full of the romance of liberty, he had 
torn himself from his youthful bride, turned his back upon the 
gayeties and splendors of a court, and made his way to America 
to join its hazardous fortunes. He sent in his letters of recom- 
mendation to Mr. Lovell, Chairman of the Committee of Foreign 
Affairs, and applied the next day at the door of Congress to know 
his success. Mr. Lovell came forth, and gave him but little en- 
couragement ; Congress, in fact, was embarrassed by the number 
of foreign applications, many without merit. Lafayette immedi- 
ately sent in the follovv'ing note : " After my sacrifices, I have the 
right to ask two favors ; one is to sei-ve at my own expense ; the 
other, to begin by serving as a volunteer." 



286 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

This simple appeal had its effect : it called attention to his 
peculiar case, and Congress resolved on the 31st of July, that in 
consideration of his zeal, his illustrious family and connections, he 
should have the rank of major-general in the army of the United 
States. 

It was at a public dinner, where a number of members of Con- 
gress were present, that Lafayette first saw Washington. He 
immediately knew him, he said, from the officers who surrounded 
him, by his commanding air and person. When the party was 
breaking up, Washington took him aside, complimented him in a 
gracious manner on his disinterested zeal and the generosity of his 
conduct, and invited him to make head-quarters his home. " I 
cannot promise you the luxuries of a court," said he, " but as you 
have become an American soldier, you will, doubtless, accommo- 
date yourself to the fare of an American army." 

Many days had now elapsed without further tidings of the fleet. 
What had become of it? Had Howe gone against Charleston? 
If so, the distance was too great to think of following him. Before 
the army, debilitated and wasted by a long march, under a summer 
sun, in an unhealthy climate, could reach there, he might accom- 
plish every purpose he had in view, and re-embark his troops to 
turn his arms against Philadelphia, or any other point, without the 
army being at hand to oppose him. 

What, under these uncertainties, was to be done? Remain 
inactive, in the remote probability of Howe's returning this way ; 
or proceed to the Hudson with a view either to oppose Burgoyne, 
or make an attempt upon New York? A successful stroke with 
respect to either, might make up for any losses sustained in the 
South. The latter was unanimously determined in a council of war, 
in which the Marquis de Lafayette took part. Congress approved 
the decision of the council, and the army was about to be put in 
march, when all these tormenting uncertainties were brought to 
an end by intelligence that the fleet had actually entered the 
Chesapeake, and anchored at Swan Point, at least two hundred 
miles within the capes. " By General Howe's coming so far up 
tlie Chesapeake," writes Washington, " he must mean to reach 



THE NORTHERN INVASION. 287 

Philadelphia by that route, though to be sure it is a strange 
one." 

The several divisions of the army had been summoned to the 
immediate neighborhood of Philadelphia, and the militia of Penn- 
sylvania, Delaware, and the northern parts of Virginia were called 
out. Many of the militia had been ordered to rendezvous at 
Chester on the Delaware, about twelve miles below Philadelphia ; 
and General Wayne repaired to Chester, to arrange the troops 
assembling there. As there had been much disaffection to the 
cause evinced in Philadelphia, Washington, in order to encourage 
its friends and dishearten its enemies, marched with the whole 
army through the city, down Front and up Chestnut Street. 
Great pains were taken to make the display as imposing as pos- 
sible. 

Having marched through Philadelphia, the army continued on 
to Wilmington, at the confluence of Christiana Creek and the 
Brandywine, where Washington set up his head-quarters, his troops 
being encamped on the neighboring heights. 

Battle of Oriskany. — Burgoyne's progress, after reaching 
Skenesborough, was no longer easy or triumphant. His progress 
toward the Hudson was slow and difficult, because of the obstacles 
which Schuyler had put in the way. Bridges had to be rebuilt, 
and huge trees to be removed which had been felled across the 
roads. The end of July had come when Burgoyne arrived at Fort 
Edward. As he approached this place, Schuyler slowly retreated 
to Bemis Heights, near Saratoga, and about thirty miles above 
Albany. Burgoyne's perplexities increased with his advance. Very 
few Tories joined him. To his surprise, he found the people quite 
hostile, while his Indian allies were worse than useless. Their 
cruelties enraged the people. In particular the violent death of 
Miss McCrea, which has given rise to a romantic legend, seemed 
to call for vengeance. It might almost be said that armies sprang 
from the blood of this unfortunate girl, while Burgoyne's attempts 
to restrain the depredations of his savage allies disgusted them 
and led them to desert him. 

At Fort Edward he was beset by new difficulties, and heard bad 



288 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

news from the column of St. Leger which was coming down the 
Mohawk valley to join him. St. Leger had arrived at Fort Stanwix, 
a stronghold built in 1756 on the bank of the Mohawk river and 
commanding the westerly route between New York and Canada. 
The fort had been repaired by order of General Schuyler, and was 
garrisoned by seven hundred and fifty continental troops from 
New York and Massachusetts, under the command of Colonel 
Gansevoort of the New York line, a stout-hearted officer of Dutch 
descent. 

It was a motley force which appeared before it ; British, Hes- 
sian, Royalist, Canadian, and Indian, about seventeen hundred in 
all. Among them were St. Leger's rangers and Sir John Johnson's 
loyalist corps, called '•' Greens." The Indians, their worthy allies, 
were led by the famous Brant. 

On the 3d of August, St. Leger sent in a flag with a summons 
to surrender ; and, on Gansevoort's refusal, he began making prep- 
arations for a siege. On the 6th of August, three men made their 
way into the fort through a swamp, which the enemy had deemed 
impassable. They brought the cheering intelligence that General 
Herkimer, the veteran commander of the militia of Tryon County, 
was at Oriskany, about eight miles distant, with upwards of eight 
hundred men. The people of that county were many of them of 
German origin ; some of them Germans by birth. Herkimer was 
among the former; a large and powerful man, about sixty-five 
years of age. He requested Colonel Gansevoort, through his 
two messengers, to fire three signal-guns on receiving word of 
his vicinage ; upon hearing which, he would endeavor to force 
his way to the fort, depending upon the co-operation of the 
garrison. 

The messengers had been dispatched by Herkimer on the even- 
ing of the 5 th, and he had calculated that they would reach the 
fort at a very early hour in the morning. Through some delay, 
they did not reach it until between ten and eleven o'clock. 
Gansevoort instantly complied with the message. Three signal- 
guns were fired, and Colonel Willett, of the New York Continen- 
tals, with two hundred and fifty men and an iron three-pounder 



THE NORTHERN INVASION. 289 

was detached to make a diversion, by attacking that part of the 
enemy's camp occupied by Johnson and his loyahsts. 

The delay of the messengers in the night, however, disconcerted 
the plan of Herkimer. He marshalled his troops by day-break 
and waited for the signal-guns. Hour after hour elapsed, but no 
gun was heard. His officers became impatient of delay, and urged 
an immediate march. Herkimer represented that they were too 
weak to force their way to the fort without reinforcements, or 
without being sure of co-operation from the garrison, and was still 
for awaiting the preconcerted signals. High words ensued between 
him and two of his officers, colonels Cox and Paris. The latter, 
losing his temper in the dispute, accused Herkimer of being either 
a Tory or a coward. " No," replied the brave old man, " I feel 
toward you all as a father, and will not lead you into a scrape 
from which I cannot extricate you." His discretion, however, was 
overpowered by repeated taunts, and he at length, about nine 
o'clock, gave the word to march ; intimating, however, that those 
who were the most eager to advance, would be the first to run 
away. 

About ten o'clock they came to a place where the road was 
carried on a causeway of logs across a deep marshy ravine, be- 
tween high level banks. The main division descended into the 
ravine, followed by the baggage-wagons. They had scarcely 
crossed it, when enemies suddenly sprang up in front and on 
either side, with deadly volleys of musketry, and deafening yells 
and warvvhoops. St. Leger, apprised by his scouts of their ap- 
proach, had sent a force to waylay them. This was composed of 
a division of Johnson's "Greens," led by his brother-in-law. Major 
Watts ; a company of rangers under Colonel Butler, a refugee 
from this neighborhood, and a strong body of Indians under 
Brant. The troops were stationed in front just beyond the ravine, 
the Indians along each side of the road. The plan of the ambus- 
cade was to let the van of the Americans pass the ravine and 
advance between the concealed parties, when the attack was to be 
commenced by the troops in front, after which, the Indians were 
to fall on the Americans in rear and cut off all retreat. 



290 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The savages, however, could not restrain their natural ferocity 
and hold back as ordered, but discharged their rifles simultane- 
ously with the troops, and instantly rushed forward with spears 
and tomahawks, yelling like demons, and commencing a dreadful 
butchery. The rear-guard, which had not entered the ravine, 
retreated. The main body, though thrown into confusion, de- 
fended themselves bravely. One of those severe conflicts ensued, 
common in Indian warfare, where the combatants take post with 
their rifles, behind rock and tree, or come to deadly struggle with 
knife and tomahawk. The veteran Herkimer was wounded early 
in the action. A musket ball shattered his leg just below the 
knee, killing his horse at the same time. He made his men place 
him on his saddle at the foot of a large beech-tree, against the 
trunk of which he leaned, continuing to give his orders. 

The regulars attempted to charge with the bayonet ; but the 
Americans formed themselves in circles back to back, and re- 
pelled them. A heavy storm of thunder and rain caused a tem- 
porary lull in the fight, during which the patriots changed their 
ground. Some of them stationed themselves in pairs behind 
trees, so that when one had fired the other could cover him until 
he had reloaded ; for the savages were apt to rush up with knife 
and tomahawk the moment a man had discharged his piece. John- 
son's " Greens " came up to sustain the Indians, who were giving 
way ; and now was the fiercest part of the fight. Old neighbors 
met in deadly feud ; former intimacy gave bitterness to present 
hate, and war was hterally carried to the knife. The Indians, at 
length, having lost many of their bravest warriors, gave the 
retreating cry, '' Oonah ! Oonah ! " and fled to the woods. The 
" Greens " and rangers, hearing a firing in the direction of the fort, 
feared an attack upon their camp, and hastened to its defence, 
carrying off with them many prisoners. The Americans did not 
pursue them, but placing their wounded on litters made of 
branches of trees, returned to Oriskany, Both parties have 
claimed the victory ; but it does not appear that either was en- 
titled to it. Each side lost nearly four hundred in killed and 
wounded. We may add that those who had been most urgent 



THE NORTHERN INVASION. 291 

with Herkimer for this movement, were among the first to suffer 
from it. Colonel Cox was shot down at the first fire ; Colonel 
Paris was taken prisoner, and fell beneath the tomahawk of the 
famous Red Jacket. 

As to Herkimer, he was conveyed to his residence on the Mo- 
hawk river, and died nine days after the battle, not so much from 
his wound as from bad surgery ; sinking gradually through loss of 
blood from an unskilful amputation. He died like a philosopher 
and a Christian, smoking his pipe and reading his Bible to the 
last. His name has been given to a county in that part of the 
state. 

The sortie of Colonel Willett had been spirited and successful. 
Sir John and his men were driven to the river, and the Indians 
fled to the woods. Willett sacked their camps ; loaded wagons 
with camp equipage, clothing, blankets, and stores of all kinds, 
seized the baggage and papers of Sir John and of several of his 
officers, and retreated safely to the fort, just as St. Leger was 
coming up with a powerful reinforcement. 

St. Leger now began to lose heart. The fort proved more 
capable of defence than he had anticipated. His artillery was 
too light, and the ramparts, being of sod, were not easily bat- 
tered. He was obliged reluctantly to resort to the process of 
sapping and mining, and began to make regular approaches. 
Gansevoort resolved to send to Schuyler for succor. Colonel 
Willett volunteered to undertake the perilous errand. He was 
accompanied by Lieutenant Stockwell, an excellent woodsman, who 
served as guide. They left the fort on the loth, after dark, by a 
sally-port, passed by the British sentinels and close by the Indian 
camp, without being discovered, and made their way through bog 
and morass and pathless forests, until they reached the German 
Flats on the Mohawk. Here Willett procured a couple of horses, 
and by dint of hoof arrived at the camp of General Schuyler at 
Stillwater. 

Schuyler's first care was to send relief to Gansevoort and his 
beleaguered garrison. Eight hundred men were all that he could 
spare from his army in its present threatened state. A spirited 



292 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and effective officer was wanted to lead them. Arnold was in 
camp ; recently sent on as an efficient coadjutor, by Washington ; 
he was in a state of exasperation against the government, having 
just learnt that the question of rank had been decided against him 
in Congress. It was hardly to be expected, that in his irritated 
mood he would accept the command of the detachment, if offered 
to him. Arnold, however, was a combustible character. The 
opportunity of an exploit flashed on his adventurous spirit. He 
stepped promptly forward and volunteered to lead the enterprise. 
" No pubHc or private injury or insult," said he, " shall prevail 
on me to forsake the cause of my injured and oppressed country, 
until I see peace and liberty restored to her, or nobly die in the 
attempt." 

Battle of Bennington. — Leaving Arnold marching toward Fort 
Stanwix, we will now treat of the expedition against Bennington. 
This was a central place, whither the live stock was driven from 
various parts of the Hampshire Grants, and whence the American 
army derived its supplies. It was a great place of deposit, also, of 
grain of various kinds, and of wheel carriages ; the usual guard was 
militia, varying from day to day. Bennington was to be surprised. 
The country was to be scoured in quest of provisions for the army, 
horses and oxen for draft, and horses for the cavalry. All public 
magazines were to be sacked. All cattle belonging to royalists, 
and which could be spared by their owners, were to be paid for. 
All rebel flocks and herds were to be driven away. 

Generals Phillips and Riedesel demurred strongly to the expedi- 
tion, but their counsels were outweighed by those of Colonel Skene, 
the royalist. He knew, he said, all the country thereabout. The 
inhabitants were as five to one in favor of the royal cause, and 
would be prompt to turn out on the first appearance of a protect- 
ing army. He was to accompany the expedition, and much was 
expected from his personal influence and authority. 

Lieutenant-colonel Baum was to command the detachment. He 
had under him two hundred dismounted dragoons of the regiment 
of Riedesel, Captain Eraser's marksmen, all the Canadian volun- 
teers, a party of the provincials who perfectly knew the country, 



THE NORTHERN INVASION. 293 

one hundred Indians, and two light pieces of cannon. The whole 
detachment amounted to about five hundred men. The dragoons, 
it was expected, would supply themselves with horses in the course 
of the foray and a skeleton corps of royalists would be filled up 
by recruits. 

Baum set out from camp at break of day, on the 13th of August. 
The people of Bennington heard of his approach and were on the 
alert. The veteran John Stark was there with eight or nine hun- 
dred troops, and sent off for Colonel Seth Warner with his regi- 
ment of militia, w^ho were with General Lincoln at Manchester. 
Lincoln instantly detached them, and Warner and his men 
marched all night through drenching rain, arriving at Stark's camp 
in the morning dripping wet. Stark left them at Bennington to 
dry and rest themselves, and then to follow on ; in the meantime, 
he pushed forward with his men to support a party sent out the 
preceding day, in quest of the Indians. He met them about five 
miles off, in full retreat, Baum and his force a mile in their rear. 

Stark halted and prepared for action. Baum also halted, posted 
himself on a high ground at a bend of the little river Walloomsac, 
and began to entrench himself. An incessant rain on the 15 th 
prevented an attack on Baum's camp, but there was continual 
skirmishing. The colonel strengthened his entrenchments, and 
finding he had a larger force to contend with than he had antici- 
pated, sent off in all haste to Burgoyne for reinforcements. Col- 
onel Breyman marched off immediately, with five hundred German 
grenadiers and infantry and two six-pounders. 

On the following morning the sun shone bright, and Stark pre- 
pared to attack Baum in his entrenchments ; though he had no 
artillery, and his men, for the most part, had only their ordinary 
brown firelocks without bayonets. Tw^o hundred of his men, 
under Colonel Nichols, were detached to the rear of the enemy's 
left; three hundred under Colonel Herrick, to the rear of his 
right ; they were to join their forces and attack him in the rear, 
while colonels Hubbard and Stickney, with two hundred men, 
diverted his attention in front. 

Colonel Skene and the loyalists, when they saw the Americans 



294 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

issuing out of the woods on different sides, persuaded themselves, 
and endeavored to persuade Baum, that these were the loyal peo- 
ple of the country flocking to his standard. The Indians were 
the first to discover the truth. " The woods are full of Yankees," 
cried they, and retreated in single file between the troops of 
Nichols and Herrick, yelling like demons. Several of them were 
killed or wounded as they thus ran the gauntlet. 

At the first sound of fire-arms Stark, who had remained with the 
main body in camp, mounted his horse and gave the word,/^^;-- 
%vard ! Baum soon found himself assailed on every side, but he 
defended his works bravely. His two pieces of artillery, advan- 
tageously planted, were very effective, and his troops, if slow in 
march, were steady in action. Stark inspired his men with his 
own impetuosity. A German eye-witness declares that this time 
the rebels fought with desperation, pressing within eight paces of 
the loaded cannon to take surer aim at the artillerists. The latter 
were slain ; the cannon captured. The Germans still kept their 
ground, and fought bravely, until there was not a cartridge left. 
Baum and his dragoons then took to their broadswords and the 
infantry to their bayonets, and endeavored to cut their way to a 
road in the woods, but in vain ; many were killed, more wounded, 
Baum among the number, and all who survived were taken 
prisoners. 

The victors now dispersed, some to collect booty, some to 
attend to the wounded, some to guard the prisoners, and some to 
seek refreshment. At this critical juncture came Breyman's rein- 
forcement, making its way heavily and slowly to the scene of action. 
Attempts were made to rally the militia ; but they were in com- 
plete confusion. Nothing would have saved them from defeat, 
had not Colonel Seth Warner's corps fortunately arrived from Ben- 
nington, fresh from repose, and advanced to meet the enemy, while 
the others regained their ranks. It was four o'clock in the after- 
noon when this second action commenced. It was fought from 
wood to wood, and hill to hill, for several miles, until sunset. The 
last stand of the enemy was at Van Schaick's mill, where, having ex- 
pended all their ammunition, of which each man had forty rounds. 



THE NORTHERN INVASION 295 

they gave way, and retreated, under favor of the night, leaving two 
field-pieces and all their baggage in the hands of the Americans. 
Stark ceased to pursue them, lest in the darkness his men should 
fire upon each other. "Another hour of daylight," said he in 
his report, " and I should have captured the whole body." The 
veteran had had a horse shot under him, but escaped without 
wound or bruise. 

Four brass field-pieces, nine hundred dragoon swords, a thousand 
stand of arms, and four ammunition wagons were the spoils of this 
victory. Thirty- two officers, five hundred and sixty-four privates 
were taken prisoners. The numl)er of slain was very considerable, 
but could not be ascertained, many having fallen in the woods. 
The brave but unfortunate Baum did not long survive. The 
Americans had less than one hundred killed and wounded. 

Tidings of the victory of Bennington reached Washington, just 
before he moved his camp from the neighborhood of Philadelphia 
to Wilmington, and it relieved his mind from a Avorld of anxious 
perplexity. In a letter to Putnam he writes, "As there is not now 
the least danger of General Howe's going to New England, I hope 
the whole force of that country will turn out, and, by following the 
great stroke struck by General Stark near Bennington, entirely 
crush General Burgoyne, who, by his letter to Colonel Baum, 
seems to be in want of almost everything." 

Flight of St. Leger. — Arnold's march to the relief of Fort 
Stanwix was slower than suited his ardent and impatient spirit. 
He was detained in the valley of the Mohawk by bad roads, and 
by the necessity of waiting for militia recruits who turned out re- 
luctantly. He sent missives to Colonel Gansevoort assuring him 
that he would relieve him in the course of a few days. " Be 
under no kind of apprehension," writes he. " I know the strength 
of the enemy, and hotv to deal with them.'" 

In fact, conscious of the smallness of his force, he had resorted 
to stratagem, sending emissaries ahead to spread exaggerated 
reports of the number of his troops, so as to work on the fears of 
the enemy's Indian alhes and induce them to desert. The most 
important of these emissaries was one Yan Yost Cuyler, an eccen- 



296 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

trie half-witted fellow, known throughout the country as a rank 
Tory. He had been convicted as a spy, and only spared from the 
halter on the condition that he would go into St. Leger's camp, 
and spread alarming reports among the Indians, by whom he was 
well known. To insure a faithful discharge of his mission, Arnold 
detained his brother as a hostage. 

All this while St. Leger was advancing his parallels and pressing 
the siege ; while provisions and ammunition were rapidly decreas- 
ing within the fort. St. Leger's Indian allies, however, were 
growing sullen and intractable. This slow kind of warfare they 
were unaccustomed to, and by no means relished. Besides, they 
had been led to expect easy times, little fighting, many scalps, and 
much plunder ; whereas they had fought hard, lost many of their 
best chiefs, been checked in their cruelty, and gained no booty. 

At this juncture, scouts brought word that a force one thousand 
strong was marching to the relief of the fort. Eager to put his 
savages in action, St. Leger offered to place himself at their head, 
with three hundred of his best troops, and meet the enemy as they 
advanced. It was agreed, and they sallied forth together to choose 
a fighting-ground. By this time rumors stole into the camp 
doubling the number of the approaching enemy. Burgoyne's 
whole army was said to have been defeated. Lastly came Yan 
Yost Cuyler, with his coat full of bullet holes, giving out that he 
had escaped from the hands of the Americans, and had been fired 
upon by them. His story was believed, for his wounded coat 
corroborated it, and he was known to be a loyalist. Mingling 
among his old acquaintances, the Indians, he assured them that 
the Americans were close at hand and '^ numerous as the leaves 
on the trees." 

Arnold's stratagem succeeded. The Indians, fickle as the winds, 
began to desert. In a little while two hundred had decamped, 
and the rest threatened to do so likewise, unless St. Leger re- 
treated. The unfortunate colonel found too late what little re- 
liance was to be placed upon Indian allies. He determined, on the 
2 2d, to send off his sick, his wounded, and his artillery by Wood 
Creek that very night, and to protect them by the fine of march. 



THE NORTHERN INVASION. 297 

The Indians, however, goaded on by Arnold's emissaries, insisted 
on instant retreat. St. Leger still refused to depart before night- 
fall. The savages now became ungovernable. They seized upon 
liquor of the officers about to be embarked, and getting intoxi- 
cated, behaved like fiends. St. Leger was obliged to decamp about 
noon, in such hurry and confusion that he left his tents standing, 
and his artillery, with most of his baggage, ammunition, and stores, 
fell into the hands of the Americans. A detachment from the gar- 
rison pursued and harassed him for a time ; but his greatest annoy- 
ance was from his Indian alHes, who plundered the boats which 
conveyed such baggage as had been brought off; murdered all 
stragglers who lagged in the rear, and amused themselves by 
giving false alarms to keep up the panic of the soldiery ; who 
would throw away muskets, knapsacks, and everything that im- 
peded their flight. 

Such was the second blow to Burgoyne's invading army ; but 
before the news of it reached that doomed commander, he had 
already been half paralyzed by the disaster at Bennington. The 
moral effect of these two blows was such as Washington had 
predicted. Fortune, so long adverse, seemed at length to have 
taken a favorable turn. People were roused from their despond- 
ency. There was a sudden exultation throughout the country. 
The savages had disappeared in their native forests. The Ger- 
man veterans, so much vaunted and dreaded, had been vanquished 
by militia, and British artillery captured by men, some of whom 
had never seen a cannon. 

Means were now augmenting in Schuyler's hands. Colonels 
Livingston and Pierre Van Courtlandt, forwarded by Putnam, were 
arrived. Governor Clinton was daily expected with New York 
militia from the Highlands. The arrival of Arnold was anticipated 
with troops and artillery, and Lincoln with the New England 
militia. At this propitious moment, when everything was ready for 
the sickle to be put into the harvest. General Gates arrived in the 
camp — for his intrigues had at last succeeded, and Congress had 
appointed him to command the Northern army in Schuyler's place. 

Schuyler received him with the noble courtesy which was 



298 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

natural to him. He entreated Gates to call upon him for counsel 
and assistance whenever he thought proper. Gates was in high 
spirits. His letters to Washington show how completely he was 
aware that an easy path of victory had been opened for him. So 
far was he from responding to Schuyler's magnanimity, that he 
did not even ask him to be present at his first council of war. 

We will now shift the scene to Washington's camp at Wilming- 
ton, where we left him watching the operations of the British fleet, 
and preparing to oppose the army under Sir William Howe in its 
designs upon Philadelphia. 

§ 7. First Great Triumph — Saratoga. 

Battle of the Brandywine. — On the 25th of August, the Brit- 
ish army under General Howe began to land from the fleet in Elk 
river, at the head of Chesapeake Bay. The place where they 
landed was about six miles below Elkton ; seventy miles from 
Philadelphia; ten miles further than they had been when en- 
camped at Brunswick. The intervening country, too, was less 
open than the Jerseys/ and cut up by deep streams. Sir William 
had chosen this circuitous route by the advice of Charles Lee, the 
traitor, in the expectation of finding friends among the people of 
the lower counties of Pennsylvania. 

The country was in a great state of alarm. The inhabitants 
were hurrying off their most valuable effects, so that it was difficult 
to procure cattle and vehicles to remove the pubhc stores. The 
want of horses, and the annoyances given by the American light 
troops, however, kept Howe from advancing promptly, and gave 
time for the greater part of the stores to be saved. 

To allay the public alarm, Howe issued a proclamation on the 
27th, promising the strictest regularity and order on the part of 
his army ; with security of person and property to all who re- 
mained quietly at home, and pardon to those under arms, who 
should promptly return to their obedience. The proclamation 
had a quieting effect, especially among the loyalists, who abounded 
in these parts. 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 299 

The divisions of generals Greene and Stephen were now stationed 
several miles in advance of Wilmington, behind White Clay Creek, 
about ten miles from Elkton. General Smallwood and Colonel 
Gist had been directed by Congress to take command of the 
militia of Maryland, who were gathering on the western shore, and 
Washington sent them orders to get in the rear of the enemy. 
Washington now felt the want of Morgan and his riflemen, whom 
he had sent to assist the Northern army ; to supply their place, he 
formed a corps of light troops, by drafting a hundred men from 
each brigade. The command was given to Major-general Maxwell, 
who was to hover about the enemy and give them continual an- 
noyance. The army about this time was increased by the arrival 
of General Sullivan and his division of three thousand men. 

At this time Henry Lee of Virginia, of military renown, makes 
his first appearance. He was in the twenty-second year of his 
age, and in the preceding year had commanded a company of 
Virginia volunteers. He had recently signalized himself in scout- 
ing parties, harassing the enemy's pickets. His adventurous ex- 
ploits soon won him notoriety, and the popular appellation of 
" Light-horse Harry." He was favorably noticed by Washington 
throughout the war. Perhaps there was something beside his bold, 
dashing spirit, which won him this favor. There may have been 
early recollections connected with it. Lee was the son of the 
lady who first touched Washington's heart in his school-boy days, 
the one about whom he wrote rhymes at Mount Vernon and 
Greenway Court — his "lowland beauty." Lee's son was the 
great Virginian general, Robert Edward Lee, so famous in the 
War of Secession. They were in no way related to Charles Lee, 
the traitor. 

Several days were now passed by the commander-in-chief almost 
continually in the saddle, reconnoitering the roads and passes, 
and making himself acquainted with the surrounding country ; 
which was very much intersected by rivers and small streams, 
running chiefly from northwest to southeast. He had now made 
up his mind to risk a battle in the open field. It is true his troops 
were inferior to those of the enemy in number, equipments, and 



300 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

discipline. But it would never do to let Philadelphia, the seat of 
Congress, fall without a blow. There was a carping spirit abroad ; 
a disposition to cavil and find fault, which was prevalent in Phila- 
delphia, and creeping into Congress ; something of the nature of 
what had been indulged respecting Schuyler and the army of the 
North. Public impatience called for a battle ; it was expected 
even by Europe ; his own valiant spirit required it. 

The British army, having effected a landing, was formed into 
two divisions. One, under Sir William Howe, was stationed at 
Elkton, with its advanced guard at Gray's Hill, about two miles 
off. The other division, under General Knyphausen, was on the 
opposite side of the ferry, at Cecil Court House. On the third of 
September the enemy advanced in considerable force, with three 
field-pieces, moving with great caution, as the country was difficult, 
woody, and not well known to them. About three miles in front 
of White Clay Creek, their vanguard was encountered by Maxwell 
and his light troops, and a severe skirmish took place. The fire 
of the American sharpshooters and riflemen, as usual, was very 
effective ; but being inferior in number, and having no artillery. 
Maxwell was compelled to retreat across White Clay Creek, with 
the loss of about forty killed and wounded. The loss of the 
enemy was supposed to be much greater. 

The main body of the American army was now encamped on 
the east side of Red Clay Creek, on the road leading from Elkton 
to Philadelphia. The light infantry were in the advance, at White 
Clay Creek. The armies were from eight to ten miles apart. In 
this position Washington determined to await the threatened attack. 
On the 5 th of September he made a stirring appeal to the army, 
in his general orders, stating the object of the enemy, the capture 
of Philadelphia. They had tried it before, from New Jersey, and 
had failed. He trusted they would be again disappointed. In 
their present attempt their all was at stake. The whole would be 
hazarded in a single battle. If defeated in that, they were totally 
undone, and the war would be at an end. Now then was the time 
for the most strenuous exertions. One bold stroke would free the 
land from rapine, devastation, and brutal outrage. " Two years," 




VMlrninpTon 



Kermet Square 



BATTLE OF th^ Bf?ANDYWINE. 
Sept. J J, 1777. 



T^ face page 301. 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 301 

said he, " have we maintained the war, and struggled with difficul- 
ties innumerable, but the prospect has brightened. Now is the 
time to reap the fruit of all our toils and dangers ; if we behave 
like men, this third campaign will be our last." Washington's 
effective force, militia included, did not exceed eleven thousand, 
and most of these were indifferently armed and equipped. The 
strength of the British was computed at eighteen thousand men.^' 

On the 8th, the enemy advanced in two columns ; one appeared 
preparing to attack the Americans in front, while the other ex- 
tended its left up the west side of the creek, halting at Milltown, 
somewhat to the right of the American position. Washington now 
suspected an intention on the part of Sir William How^e to march 
by his right, suddenly pass the Brandywine, gain the heights north 
of that stream, and cut him off from Philadelphia. He summoned 
a council of war, therefore, that evening, in which it was deter- 
mined immediately to change their position, and move to the river 
in question. By two o'clock in the morning, the army was under 
march, and by the next evening was encamped on the high grounds 
in the rear of the Brandywine. The enemy on the same evening 
moved to Kennet Square, about seven miles from the American 
position. 

The Brandywine Creek commences wdth two branches, called 
the East and West forks, which unite in one stream, flowing from 
west to east about twenty-two miles, and emptying itself into the 
Delaware about twenty-five miles below Philadelphia. It has 
several fords ; one, called Chadd's Ford, w^as at that time the most 
practicable, and in the direct route from the enemy's camp to 
Philadelphia. As the principal attack was expected here, Wash- 
ington made it the centre of his position, where he stationed the 
main body of his army, composed of Wayne's, Weedon's, and 
Muhlenberg's brigades, with the light infantry under Maxwell. 
An eminence immediately above the ford had been entrenched in 
the night, and was occupied by Wayne and Proctor's artillery. 
Weedon's and Muhlenberg's brigades, which w^ere Virginian troops, 
and formed General Greene's division, were posted in the rear on 
the heights, as a reser\T to aid either wing of the army. \^'ith 



302 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

these Washington took his stand. Maxwell's light infantry were 
thrown in the advance, south of the Brandywine, and posted on 
high ground each side of the road leading to the ford. 

The right wing of the army, commanded by Sullivan, and com- 
posed of his division and those of Stephen and Stirling, extended 
up the Brandywine two miles beyond Washington's position. Its 
light troops and videttes were distributed quite up to the forks. 
A few detachments of ill-organized and undisciplined cavalry 
extended across the creek on the extreme right. The left wing, 
composed of the Pennsylvania militia, under Major-general Arm- 
strong, was stationed about a mile and a half below the main body, 
to protect the lower fords, where the least danger was appre- 
hended. The Brandywine, w^hich ran in front of the whole line, 
was now the only obstacle between the two armies. 

Early on the morning of the nth, a great column of troops was 
descried advancing on the road leading to Chadd's Ford. A skirt 
of woods concealed its force, but it was supposed to be the main 
body of the enemy. The Americans were immediately drawn out 
in order of battle. Washington rode along the front of the ranks," 
and was everywhere received with acclamations. A sharp firing 
of small-arms soon told that Maxwell's light infantry were engaged 
with the vanguard of the enemy. The skirmishing was kept up 
for some time with spirit, when Maxwell was driven across the 
Brandywine below the ford. The enemy did not attempt to follow, 
but halted on commanding ground, and appeared to reconnoiter 
the American position with a view to an attack. A heavy cannon- 
ading commenced on both sides, about ten o'clock. The enemy 
made repeated dispositions to force the ford, which brought on as 
frequent skirmishes on both sides of the river, for detachments of 
the light troops occasionally crossed over. All this while there 
was the noise and uproar of a battle, but little of the reality. But 
towards noon came an express from Sullivan, with a note received 
from a scouting party, reporting that Lord Cornwallis, with a large 
body of troops and a park of artillery, was pushing up the Lan- 
caster road, doubtless to cross at the upper fords and turn the 
right flank of the American position. Washington instantly sent 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 303 

off Colonel Bland, with a party of horse, to reconnoiter above the 
forks and ascertain the truth of the report. In the meantime, he 
resolved to cross the ford, attack the division in front of him with 
his whole force, and rout it before the other could arrive. He 
gave orders for both wings to co-operate, when, as Sullivan was 
preparing to cross, Major Spicer of the militia rode up, just from 
the forks, and assured him there was no enemy in that quarter. 
Sullivan instantly transmitted the intelligence to Washington, 
whereupon the movement was suspended until positive information 
could be obtained. After a time came a man of the neighborhood, 
Thomas Cheney by name, spurring in all haste, the mare he rode 
in foam, and himself out of breath. Dashing up to the comman- 
der-in-chief, he informed him that he must instantly move, or he 
would be surrounded. He had come upon the enemy unawares ; 
had been pursued and fired upon, but the fleetness of his mare 
had saved him. The main body of the British was coming down 
on the east side of the stream, and was near at hand. Washington 
rephed, that from information just received, it could not be so. 
"You are mistaken, general," replied the other vehemently; "my 
life for it, you are mistaken." Then reiterating the fact with an 
oath, and making a draft of the road in the sand, " put me under 
guard," added he, " until you find my story true." 

Another dispatch from Sullivan corroborated it. Colonel Bland 
had seen the enemy two miles in the rear of Sullivan's right, march- 
ing down at a rapid rate, while a cloud of dust showed that there 
were more troops behind. The Long Island stratagem had been 
played over again. Knyphausen, with about eight thousand men, 
had engrossed the attention of the Americans by a feigned attack 
at Chadd's Ford, kept up with great noise and prolonged by skir- 
mishes ; while the remainder of the army, about ten thousand 
men, under Cornwallis, led by experienced guides, had made a 
circuit of seventeen miles, crossed the two forks of the Brandy- 
wine, and arrived in the neighborhood of Birmingham meeting- 
house, two miles to the right of Sullivan. It was a capital strata- 
gem, secretly and successfully conducted. 

Finding that Cornwallis had thus [rnin'^d the rear of the army. 



304 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Washington sent orders to Sullivan to oppose him with the whole 
right wing, each brigade attacking as soon as it arrived upon the 
ground. Wayne, in the meantime, was to keep Knyphausen at 
bay at the ford, and Greene, with the reserve, to hold himself 
ready to give aid wherever required. Lafayette, as a volunteer, 
had hitherto accompanied the commander-in-chief, but now, see- 
ing there was likely to be warm work with the right wing, he ob- 
tained permission to join Sullivan, and spurred off with his aide- 
de-camp to the scene of action. From his narrative, we gather 
some of the subsequent details. 

Sullivan, on receiving Washington's orders, advanced with his 
own, Stephen's, and Stirling's divisions, and began to form a line 
in front of an open piece of wood. The time which had been 
expended in transmitting intelligence, receiving orders, and march- 
ing, had enabled Cornwallis to choose his ground and prepare for 
action. Still more time was given him from the apprehension of 
the three generals, upon consultation, of being outflanked upon 
the right ; and that the gap between Sullivan's and Stephen's divis- 
ions was too wide, and should be closed up. Orders were accord- 
ingly given for the whole line to move to the right ; and while in 
execution, Cornwallis advanced rapidly with his troops in the finest 
order, and opened a brisk fire of musketry and artillery. The 
Americans made an obstinate resistance, but being taken at a dis- 
advantage, the right and left wings were broken and driven into the 
woods. The centre stood firm for a while, but being exposed to 
the whole fire of the enemy, gave way at length also. The British, 
in following up their advantage, got entangled in the wood. It 
was here that Lafayette received his wound. He had thrown him- 
self from his horse, and was endeavoring to rally the troops, when 
he was shot through the leg with a musket ball, and had to be 
assisted into the saddle by his aide-de-camp. The Americans 
rallied on a height to the north of Dilworth, and made a still more 
spirited resistance than at first, but were again dislodged and 
obliged to retreat with a heavy loss. 

While this was occurring with the right wing, Knyphausen, as 
soon as he learnt from the heavy firing that Cornwallis was engaged, 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 305 

made a push to force his way across Chadd's Ford in earnest. 
He was vigorously opposed by Wayne with Proctor's artillery, 
aided by Maxwell and his infantry. Greene was preparing to 
second him with the reserve, when he was summoned by Wash- 
ington to the support of the right wing, which the commander- 
in-chief had found in imminent peril. Greene advanced to the 
relief with such celerity, that it is said, on good authority, his 
division accomplished the march, or rather run, of five miles, in 
less than fifty minutes. He arrived too late to save^ihe battle, 
but in time to protect the broken masses of the right wing, which 
he met in full flight. Opening his ranks from time to time for 
the fugitives, and closing them the moment they had passed, he 
covered their retreat by a sharp and well-directed fire from his 
field-pieces. His grand stand was made at a place about a mile 
beyond Dilworth, which, in reconnoitering the neighborhood, 
Washington had pointed out to him, as well calculated for a second 
position, should the army be driven out of the first ; and here he 
was overtaken by Colonel Pinckney, an aide-de-camp of the com- 
mander-in-chief, ordering him to occupy this position and protect 
the retreat of the army. The orders were implicitly obeyed. 
Weedon's brigade was drawn up in a narrow defile, flanked on 
both sides by woods, and perfectly commanding the road ; while 
Greene, with Muhlenberg's brigade, passing to the right took his 
station on the road. The British came on impetuously, expecting 
but faint opposition. They met with a desperate resistance, and 
were repeatedly driven back. It was the bloody conflict of the 
bayonet : deadly on either side, and lasting for a considerable time. 
Weedon's brigade on the left maintained its stand also with great 
obstinacy, and the check given to the enemy by these two brigades, 
allowed time for the broken troops to retreat. Weedon's was at 
length compelled by superior numbers to seek the protection of 
the other brigade, which he did in good order, and Greene grad- 
ually drew off the whole division in face of the enemy, who, 
checked by this vigorous resistance, and seeing the day far spent, 
gave up all further pursuit. 

The brave stand made by these brigades had, likewise, been a 



306 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

great protection to Wayne. He had for a long time withstood the 
attacks of the enemy at Chadd's Ford, until the approach on the 
right, of some of the enemy's troops who had been entangled in 
the woods, showed him that the right wing had been defeated. He 
now gave up the defence of his post, and retreated by the Chester 
road. Knyphausen's troops were too fatigued to pursue him ; and 
the others had been kept back, as we have shown, by Greene's 
division. So ended the varied conflict of the day. 

The scene of the battle, which decided the fate of Philadelphia, 
was within six-and-twenty miles of that city. The two parties of 
the inhabitants, Whig and Tory, were to be seen in groups, in the 
squares and public places, waiting the event in anxious silence. 
At length a courier arrived. His tidings spread consternation 
among the friends of liberty. Many left their homes and took 
refuge in the mountains. Congress, the same evening, determined 
to quit the city and repair to Lancaster, whence they subsequently 
removed to Yorktown. 

The losses on each side, in the battle of the Brandywine, ex- 
ceeded one thousand in killed and wounded. Notwithstanding 
the defeat of the American army. Sir William Howe's troops had 
been so severely handled that he did not press the pursuit, but 
remained two days at Dilworth, sending out detachments to take 
post at Chester, and seize on Wilmington, whither the sick and 
wounded were conveyed. Washington profited by the inactivity of 
Howe ; retreating across the Schuylkill to Germantown, within a 
short distance of Philadelphia, where he gave his troops a day's 
repose. Finding them in good spirits, and in nowise disheartened 
by the recent affair, which they seemed to consider a check rather 
than a defeat, he resolved to seek the enemy again and give him 
battle. As preliminary measures, he left some of the Pennsylvania 
militia in Philadelphia to guard the city ; others, under General 
Armstrong, were posted at the various passes of the Schuylkill, with 
orders to throw up works ; the floating bridge on the lower road 
was to be unmoored, and the boats collected and taken across the 
river. 

Having taken these precautions against any hostile movement 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 307 

by the lower road, Washington recrossed the Schuylkill on the 14th, 
and advanced along the Lancaster road, with the intention of 
turning the left flank of the enemy. Howe, apprised of his inten- 
tion, made a similar disposition to outflank him. The two armies 
came in sight of each other near the Warren Tavern, twenty-three 
miles from Philadelphia, and were on the point of engaging, but 
were prevented by a violent storm of rain, which lasted for four- 
and-twenty hours. This inclement weather was particularly dis- 
tressing to the Americans, who were scantily clothed, most of them 
destitute of blankets, and separated from their tents and baggage. 
The rain penetrated their cartridge-boxes and the ill-fitted locks 
of their muskets, rendering the latter useless. In this plight, 
Washington gave up for the present all thought of attacking the 
enemy, as their discipline in the use of the bayonet, with which 
they were universally furnished, would give them a great supe- 
riority in action. The aim at present was to get some dry and 
secure place, where the army might repose and refit. All day, 
and for a great part of the night, they marched under a cold and 
pelting rain, through deep and miry roads, to Warwick, on French 
Creek ; a weary march for ragged and barefooted troops. 

From French Creek, Wayne was detached with his division, to 
get in the rear of the enemy, form a junction with General Small- 
wood and the Maryland militia, and, keeping themselves concealed, 
watch for an opportunity to cut off Howe's baggage and hospital 
train; in the meantime, Washington crossed the Schuylkill at 
Parker's Ford, and took a position to defend that pass of the 
river. Wayne set off in the night, and, by a circuitous march, got 
within three miles of the left wing of the British encamped at 
Tredyffrin, and concealing himself in a wood, waited the arrival of 
Smallwood and his mihtia. At daybreak he reconnoitered the 
camp, where Howe, checked by the severity of the weather, had 
contented himself with uniting his columns, and remained under 
shelter. All day Wayne hovered about the camp ; there were no 
signs of marching ; all kept quiet, but lay too compact to be at- 
tacked with prudence. He sent repeated messages to Washington, 
describing the situation of the enemy, and urging him to come on 



30S UPE OF IVASUIJVGTON. 

and attack them in their camp. His motions, however, had not 
been so secret as he imagined. He was in a part of the country 
full of the disaffected, and Sir William had received accurate infor- 
mation of his force and where he was encamped. General Grey, 
with a strong detachment, was sent to surprise him at night in 
his lair. Late in the evening, when Wayne had set his pickets 
and sentinels, and thrown out his patrols, a countryman brought 
him word of the meditated attack. He doubted the intelligence, 
but strengthened his pickets and patrols, and ordered his troops 
to sleep upon their arms. 

At eleven o'clock, the pickets were driven in at the point of 
the bayonet — the enemy were advancing in column. Wayne 
instantly took post on the right of his position, to cover the 
retreat of the left, led by Colonel Humpton, the second in com- 
mand. The latter was tardy, and incautiously paraded his troops 
in front of their fires, so as to be in full relief. The enemy 
rushed on without firing a gun : all was the silent, but deadly work 
of the bayonet and cutlass. Nearly three hundred of Humpton's 
men were killed or wounded, and the rest put to flight. Wayne 
gave the enemy some well-directed volleys, and then, retreating to 
a small distance, rallied his troops, and prepared for further 
defence. The British, however, contented themselves with the 
blow they had given, and retired with very little loss, taking with 
them between seventy and eighty prisoners, and eight baggage 
wagons, heavily laden. 

Smallwood, who was to have co-operated with Wayne, was 
within a mile of him at the time of his attack ; and would have 
hastened to his assistance with his well-known intrepidity, but he 
had not his old and tried corps with him, but a squad of raw 
militia, who fled in a panic at first sight of the enemy. 

On the 2ist, Sir William Howe made a rapid march high up 
the Schuylkill, on the road leading to Reading, as if he intended 
either to capture the military stores deposited there, or to turn 
the right of the American army. Washington kept pace with him 
on the opposite side of the river, up to Pott's Grove, about thirty 
miles from Philadelphia. Howe's movement was a feint. No 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 309 

sooner had he drawn Washington so far up the river, than, by a 
rapid countermarch on the night of the 2 2d, he got to the ford 
below, threw his troops across on the next morning, and pushed 
forward for Philadelphia. By the time Washington was apprised 
of this movement, Howe was too far on his way to be overtaken 
by barefooted troops, worn out by constant marching. Howe 
halted at Germantown, within a short distance of Philadelphia, 
and encamped the main body of his army in and about that vil- 
lage ; detaching Lord Cornwallis with a large force to take formal 
possession of the city. That general marched into Philadelphia 
on the 26th with a brilliant escort, followed by splendid legions of 
British and Hessian grenadiers, long trains of artillery and squad- 
rons of light dragoons, stepping to the swelling music of " God 
save the King," and presenting, with their scarlet uniforms, their 
glittering arms and flaunting feathers, a striking contrast to the 
weary and way-worn troops who had lately passed through the 
same streets, happy if they could cover their raggedness with 
brown linen hunting- frocks, or decorate their caps with sprigs of 
evergreen. 

Thus the British took possession of the capital of the confed- 
eracy, so long the object of their awkward attempts. Washington 
maintained his characteristic equanimity. He had heard of the 
prosperous situation of affairs in the Northern department, whither 
we will now turn our attention. 

First Battle near Saratoga. — The Northern army had received 
various reinforcements, the most efficient of which was Morgan's 
corps of riflemen, sent by Washington, who had also furnished it 
with artiflery. It was now about sixteen thousand strong. Schuy- 
ler, finding himself and his proffered services slighted by Gates, 
had returned to Albany. His patriotism was superior to personal 
resentments. At Albany, he held talks and war feasts with depu- 
tations of Oneida, Tuscarora, and Onondaga warriors, exerting his 
influence over these tribes, to win them from the enemy. His 
former aide-de-camp, Colonel Brockholst Livingston, and his 
secretary. Colonel Varick, remained in camp, and kept him 
informed by letter of passing occurrences. They were much 



310 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

about the person of General Arnold, who, since his return from 
relieving Fort Stanwix, commanded the left wing of the army. 
Livingston, in fact, was with him as aide-de-camp. The jealousy 
of Gates was awakened by these circumstances. He knew their 
attachment to Schuyler, and suspected they were prejudicing 
Arnold against him ; and this suspicion may have been the origin 
of a coolness which he soon evinced toward Arnold himself. 
These young officers, however, though devotedly attached to 
Schuyler from a knowledge of his generous character, were above 
any camp intrigue. Livingston was looking forward with youthful 
ardor to a brush with the enemy. " Burgoyne," writes he to 
Schuyler exultingly, " is in such a situation, that he can neither 
advance nor retire without fighting. A capital battle must soon 
be fought. I am chagrined to the soul when I think that another 
person will reap the fruits of your labors." Varick, equally eager, 
was afraid Burgoyne might be decamping. " His evening guns," 
writes he, " are seldom heard, and when heard, are very low in 
sound." 

The dense forests, which covered the country between the hos- 
tile armies, concealed their movements, and as Gates threw out 
no harassing parties, his information concerning the enemy was 
vague. Burgoyne was diligently collecting his forces, and on the 
13th and 14th of September they slowly passed over a bridge of 
boats, which they had thrown across the Hudson, and encamped 
near Fish Creek. As Gates was to receive an attack, it was thought 
he ought to choose the ground where to receive it ; Arnold, there- 
fore, in company with Kosciuszko, the Polish engineer, recon- 
noitered the neighborhood in quest of a good camping-ground, 
and at length fixed upon a ridge of hills called Bemis' Heights, 
which rises abruptly from the narrow flat bordering the west side 
of the river. Kosciuszko had fortified the camp with entrench- 
ments which commanded the valley, and even the hills on the 
opposite side of the river. 

The right wing of the army, under the immediate command of 
Gates, and composed of Glover's, Nixon's and Patterson's brig- 
ades, occupied the brow of the hill nearest to the river, with the 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH^ SARATOGA. 



311 



flats below. The left wing, commanded by Arnold, was on the 
side furthest from the river, and distant from the latter about 
three-quarters of a mile. It was composed of the New Hampshire 
brigade of General Poor, Pierre Van Courtlandt's and James 
Livingston's regiments of New York militia, the Connecticut mili- 
tia, Morgan's riflemen, and Dearborn's infantry. The centre was 
composed of Massachusetts and New York troops. 

Burgoyne now encamped about two miles from Gates, disposing 
his army in two Hnes ; the left on the river, the right extending 
at right angles to it, about six hundred yards, across the low 
grounds to a range of steep and rocky hills. A ravine formed by 
a rivulet from the hills passed in front of the camp. The low 
ground between the armies was cultivated ; the hills were covered 
with woods, excepting three or four small ^openings and deserted 
farms. Besides the ravines which fronted each camp there was 
a third one, midway between them, also at right angles to the 
river. 

On the morning of the 19th, General Gates received intelligence 
that the enemy were advancing in great force on his left. It was 
their right wing, led by Burgoyne in person. It was covered by 
the grenadiers and light infantry under Fraser and Breyman, who 
kept along the high grounds on the right; while they, in turn, 
were covered in front and on the flanks by Indians, Tories, and 
Canadians. The left wing and artillery were advancing at the 
same time, under Phillips and Riedesel, along the great road and 
meadows by the river side, but they were retarded by the neces- 
sity of repairing broken bridges. It was the plan of Burgoyne, 
that the Canadians and Indians should attack the central outposts 
of the Americans, and draw their attention in that direction, while 
he and Fraser, making a circuit through the woods, should join 
forces and fall upon the rear of the American caliip. As the 
dense forests hid them from each other, signal guns were to regu- 
late their movements. Three, fired in succession, were to denote 
that all was ready, and be the signal for an attack in front, flank, 
and rear. 

The American pickets, stationed along the ravine of Mill Creek, 



312 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

sent repeated accounts to Gates of the movements of the enemy ; 
but he remained quiet in camp, as if determined to await an 
attack. The American officers grew impatient. Arnold especially 
urged that a detachment be sent forth to check the enemy and 
drive the Indians out of the woods. At length, about noon, he 
succeeded in getting permission to make the attack with Morgan's 
riflemen and Dearborn's infantry. They soon fell in with the 
Canadians and Indians, and dispersed them. Morgan's rifle- 
men, following up their advantage with too much eagerness, be- 
came likewise scattered, and a strong reinforcement of royalists 
arriving on the scene, the Americans, in turn, were obliged to give 
way. 

Other detachments now arrived under Arnold, who attacked 
Fraser on his right, to check his attempt to get in the rear of the 
camp. Finding the position of Fraser too strong to be forced, he 
sent to head-quarters for reinforcements, but they were refused by 
Gates, who declared that no more should go ; " he would not suffer 
his camp to be exposed." The reason he gave was that it might 
be attacked by the enemy's left wing. 

Arnold now made a rapid counter-march, and, his movement 
being masked by the woods, suddenly attempted to turn Fraser's 
left. Here he came in full conflict with the British line, and 
threw himself upon it with a boldness and impetuosity that for a 
time threatened to break it, and cut the wings of the army asunder. 
The grenadiers and Breyman's riflemen hastened to its support. 
Phillips broke his way through the woods with four pieces of 
artillery, and Riedesel came on with his heavy dragoons. Rein- 
forcements came likewise to Arnold's assistance ; his force, how- 
ever, never exceeded three thousand men, and with these, for 
nearly four hours, he kept up a conflict, almost hand to hand, 
with the whole right wing of the British army. Part of the time 
the Americans had the advantage of fighting under the cover of a 
wood, so favorable to their militia and sharpshooters. Burgoyne 
ordered the woods to be cleared by the bayonet. His troops 
rushed forward in columns with a hurrah ! The Americans kept 
within their entrenchments, and repeatedly repulsed them ; but if 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 313 

they pursued their advantage, and advanced into open field, they 
were in their turn driven back. 

Night alone put an end to the conflict, which the British 
acknowledged to have been the most obstinate and hard fought 
they had ever experienced in America. Both parties claimed the 
victory. But, though the British remained on the field of battle, 
where they lay all night upon their arms, they had failed in their 
object ; they had been assailed instead of being the assailants ; 
while the American troops had accomplished the purpose for 
which they had sallied forth ; had checked the advance of the 
enemy, frustrated their plan of attack, and returned exulting to 
their camp. Their loss, in kifled and wounded, was between three 
and four hundred, including several officers ; that of the enemy 
nearly one thousand. 

Arnold was excessively indignant at Gates' withholding the 
reinforcements he had required in the heat of the action ; had 
they been furnished he might have severed the line of the enemy 
and gained a complete victory. He was urgent to resume the 
action on the succeeding morning, and follow up the advantage he 
had gained, but Gates declined, to his additional annoyance. He 
attributed the refusal to pique or jealousy, but Gates subsequendy 
gave as a reason the great deficiency of powder and ball in the 
camp, which was known only to himself, and which he kept secret 
until a supply was sent from Albany. 

Burgoyne now strengthened his position with entrenchments and 
batteries, part of them across the meadows which bordered the 
river, part on the brow of the heights which commanded them. 
The Americans likewise extended and strengthened their fine of 
breastworks on the left of the camp ; the right was already unas- 
sailable. The camps were within gunshot, but with ravines and 
woods between them. 

Burgoyne's situation was growing more and more critical. On 
the 2 1 St, he heard shouts in the American camp, and in a little 
while their cannon thundered a feu de joie. News had been re- 
ceived that a detachment of New England troops under Colonel 
Brown had surprised the carrying-place, mills, and French lines 



314 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

at Ticonderoga, captured an armed sloop, gunboats, and bateaux, . 
made three hundred prisoners, besides releasing one hundred 
American captives, and were laying siege to Fort Independence. 

Clinton's attempt to relieve Burgoyne. — While the shouts 
from the American camp were yet ringing in Burgoyne's ears, 
there came a letter in cipher from Sir Henry Clinton, dated the 
1 2 th of September, announcing his intention in about ten days 
to attack the Highland forts. Burgoyne sent back messages in- ' 
forming Sir Henry of his perilous situation, and urging a diversion 
that might oblige General Gates to detach a part of his army; 
adding, that he would endeavor to maintain his present position, 
and await favorable events until the 12th of October. 

The jealousy of Gates had been intensely excited at finding the 
whole credit of the late affair given by the army to Arnold : in his 
dispatches to government he made no mention of him. This 
increased the schism between them. Wilkinson, the adjutant- 
general, who was a sycophantic adherent of Gates, pandered to 
his pique by withdrawing from Arnold's division Morgan's rifle 
corps and Dearborn's light infantry, its arms of strength, which 
had done such brilliant service in the late affair : they were hence- 
forth to be subject to no order but those from head- quarters. 

x^rnold called on Gates on the evening of the 2 2d to remon- 
strate. High words passed between them. Gates told Arnold 
that he did not consider him a major-general, as he had sent his 
resignation to Congress ; that he had never given him the com- 
mand of any division of the army; that General Lincoln would 
arrive in a day or two, and then he would have no further occa- 
sion for him, and would give him a pass to go to Philadelphia 
whenever he chose. Arnold returned to his quarters in a rage, 
and wrote a note to Gates requesting the proffered permit to de- 
part for Philadelphia ; by the time he received it his ire had cooled 
and he had changed his mind. He determined to remain in 
camp and abide the anticipated battle ; but he was treated as a 
cipher, and never consulted by Gates. 

Lincoln, in the meantime, arrived in advance of his troops, 
which soon followed to the amount of two thousand. Part of the 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 315 

troops, detached by him under Colonel Brown, were besieging 
Ticonderoga and Fort Independence. Colonel Brown himself, 
with part of his detachment, had embarked on I-.ake George in an 
armed schooner and a squadron of captured gunboats, and was 
threatening the enemy's deposit of baggage and heavy artillery at 
Diamond Island. The toils so skilfully spread were encompassing 
Burgoyne more and more ; the gates of Canada were closing be- 
hind him. Still he kept up a resolute mien, telling his soldiers, in 
a harangue, that he was determined to leave his bones on the field, 
or force his way to Albany. He yet clung to the hope, that Sir 
Henry Clinton might operate in time to relieve him from his peril- 
ous position. 

That officer had awaited the arrival of reinforcements from 
Europe, which were slowly crossing the ocean in Dutch vessels. 
At length they arrived, after a three months' voyage, and now 
between three and four thousand men were to be embarked on 
board of ships-of-war. With this force Sir Henry ascended the 
river to the Highlands, outwitted General Putnam, and captured 
the forts, laying open the river as far as Albany. Sir Henry Clin- 
ton proceeded no further in person, but left the rest of the enter- 
prise to be accomplished by Sir James Wallace and General 
Vaughan, with a flying squadron of light frigates, and a consider- 
able detachment of troops. 

The governor, George Clinton, was in the neighborhood of 
New Windsor, just above the Highlands, where he had posted 
himself to rally what he termed his " broken but brave troops," 
and to call out the militia of Ulster and Orange. " I am per- 
suaded," writes he, "if the mihtia will join me, we can save the 
countr)- from destruction, and defeat the enemy's design of assist- 
ing their Northern army." On the 9th of October, two persons 
coming from Fort Montgomery were arrested by his guards, and 
brought before him for examination. One was much agitated, 
and was obsen^ed to put something hastily into his mouth and 
swallow it. An emetic was administered, and brought up a small 
silver bullet. It was oval in form and hollow, with a screw in the 
centre, and contained a note from Sir Henr)- Clinton to Burgoyn^-, 



316 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

written on a slip of thin paper, and dated (October 8th) from 
Fort Montgomery. ^^ Nous y void [here we are], and nothing 
between us and Gates. I sincerely hope this little success of ours 
will facilitate your operations." The bearer of the letter was 
tried and convicted as a spy, and sentenced to be hanged. 

The enemy's light-armed vessels were now making their way 
up the river, landing marauding parties occasionally to make 
depredations. As soon as the governor could collect a little 
force, he pressed forward to protect Kingston, the seat of the 
state legislature. The enemy in the meantime landed from their 
ships, routed about one hundred and fifty militia collected to 
oppose them, marched to the village, set fire to it in every part, 
consuming great quantities of stores collected there, and then 
retreated to their ships. Governor Clinton was two hours too late. 
He beheld the flames from a distance ; and having brought with 
him the spy, the bearer of the silver bullet, he hanged him on an 
apple-tree in sight of the burning village. 

Having laid Kingston in ashes, the enemy proceeded in their 
ravages, destroying the residences of conspicuous patriots at Rhine- 
beck, Livingston Manor, and elsewhere, and among others the 
mansion of the widow of the brave General Montgomery ; trust- 
ing to close their desolating career by a triumphant junction with 
Burgoyne at Albany. 

Second Battle near Saratoga. — On the yth of October, but 
four or five days remained of the time Burgoyne had pledged 
himself to await the co-operation of Sir Henry Clinton. He now 
determined to make a grand movement on the left of the Ameri- 
can camp, to discover whether he could force a passage, should it 
be necessary to advance, or dislodge it from its position, should 
he have to retreat. Another object was to cover a forage of the 
army, which was suffering from the great scarcity. 

For this purpose fifteen hundred of his best troops, with two 
twelve-pounders, two howitzers, and six six-pounders, were to be 
led by himself, seconded by major-generals Phillips and Riedesel, 
and Brigadier-general Fraser. " No equal number of men," say 
the British accounts, " were ever better commanded ; and it would 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 317 

have been difficult indeed, to have matched the men with an equal 
number." Forming his troops within three-quarters of a mile of 
the left of the Americans, though covered from their sight by the 
forest, Burgoyne sent out a corps of rangers, provincials, and 
Indians, to skulk through the woods, get in their rear, and give 
them an alarm at the time the attack took place in front. 

The movement, though carried on behind the screen of for- 
ests, was discovered. In the afternoon the advanced guard of 
the x\merican centre beat to arms ; the alarm was repeated through- 
out the line. Gates ordered his officers to their alarm posts, and 
sent forth Wilkinson, the adjutant-general, to inquire the cause. 
From a rising ground in an open place he descried the enemy in 
force, their foragers busy in a field of wheat, the officers recon- 
noitering the left wing of the camp with telescopes from the top 
of a cabin. 

Returning to the camp, Wilkinson reported the position and 
movements of the enemy ; that their front was open, their flanks 
rested on woods, under cover of which they might be attacked, 
and their right was skirted by a height : that they were recon- 
noitering the left, and he thought offered battle. 

"Well, then," repHed Gates, "order out Morgan to begin the 
game." 

A plan of attack was soon arranged. Morgan with his riflemen 
and a body of infantry was sent to make a circuit through the 
woods, and get possession of the heights on the right of the enemy, 
while General Poor with his brigade of New York and New Hamp- 
shire troops, and a part of Learned's brigade, were to advance 
against the enemy's left. Morgan was to make an attack on the 
heights as soon as he should hear the fire opened below. 

Burgoyne now drew out his troops in battle array. The gren- 
adiers, under Major Ackland, with the artillery, under Major Wil- 
liams, formed the left, and were stationed on a rising ground, with 
a rivulet called Mill Creek in front. Next to them were the Hes- 
sians, under Riedesel, and British, under Phillips, forming the 
centre. The light infantry, under Lord Balcarras, formed the ex- 
treme right ; having in the advance a detachment of five hundred 



318 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

picked men, under General Fraser, ready to flank the Americans 
as soon as they should be attacked in front. 

He had scarce made these arrangements, when he was astonished 
and confounded by a thundering of artillery on his left, and a rat- 
tHng fire of rifles on the woody heights on his right. The troops 
under Poor advanced steadily up the ascent where Ackland's gren- 
adiers and Williams' artillery were stationed, received their fire, 
and then rushed forward. Ackland's grenadiers received the first 
brunt, but it extended along the line, as detachment after detach- 
ment arrived, and was carried on with inconceivable fury. The 
Hessian artillerists spoke afterwards of the heedlessness with which 
the Americans rushed upon the cannon, while they were discharg- 
ing grape-shot. The artillery was repeatedly taken and retaken, 
and at length remained in possession of the Americans, who 
turned it upon its former owners. Major Ackland was wounded 
in both legs and taken prisoner. Major Williams of the artillery 
was also captured. The headlong impetuosity of the attack con- 
founded the regular tacticians. Much of this has been ascribed 
to the presence and example of Arnold. That daring officer, who 
had lingered in the camp in expectation of a fight, was exasperated 
at having no command assigned him. On hearing the din of bat- 
tle, he could restrain no longer his warlike impulse, but threw him- 
self on his horse and sallied forth. Gates saw him issuing from 
the camp. '^ He'll do some rash thing ! " cried he, and sent his 
aide-de-camp, Major Armstrong, to call him back. Arnold sur- 
mised his errand and evaded it. Putting spurs to his horse, he 
dashed into the scene of action, and was received with acclama- 
tion. Being the superior officer in the field his orders were obeyed 
of course. Putting himself at the head of the troops of Learned's 
brigade, he attacked the Hessians in the enemy's centre, and broke 
them with repeated charges. Indeed, for a time his actions seemed 
to partake of frenzy; riding hither and thither, brandishing his 
sword, and cheering on the men to acts of desperation. In one of 
his paroxysms of excitement, he struck and wounded an American 
officer in the head with his sword, without, as he afterwards de- 
clared, being conscious of the act. Wilkinson asserts that he was 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA 319 

partly intoxicated ; but Arnold needed only his own irritated pride 
and the smell of gunpowder to rouse him to acts of madness. 

Morgan, in the meantime, was harassing the enemy's right wing 
with an incessant fire of small-arms, and preventing it from sending 
any assistance to the centre. General Fraser with his chosen corps 
for some time rendered great protection to this wing. Mounted 
on an iron -gray charger, his uniform of a field-officer made him a 
conspicuous object for Morgan's sharpshooters. One bullet cut 
the crupper of his horse, another grazed his mane. "You are 
singled out, general," said his aide-de-camp, "and had better shift 
your ground." "My duty forbids me to fly from danger," was the 
reply. A moment afterwards he was shot down by a marksman 
posted in a tree. Two grenadiers bore him to the camp. His 
fall was a death blow to his corps. The arrival on the field of a 
large reinforcement of New York troops under General Ten Broeck 
completed the confusion. Burgoyne saw that the field was lost, 
and now only thought of saving his camp. The troops nearest to 
the lines were ordered to throw themselves within them, while 
generals Phillips and Riedesel covered the retreat of the main 
body, which was in danger of being cut off. The artillery was 
abandoned, all the horses, and most of the men who had so 
bravely defended it, having been killed. The troops, though hard 
pressed, retired in good order. Scarcely had they entered the 
camp when it was stormed with great fury ; the Americans, with 
Arnold at their head, rushing to the lines under a severe discharge 
of grape-shot and small-arms. Lord Balcarras defended the en- 
trenchments bravely ; the action was fierce, and well sustained on 
either side. After an ineffectual attempt to make his way into the 
camp in this quarter at the point of the bayonet, Arnold spurred 
his horse toward the right flank of the camp occupied by the 
German reserve, where Lieutenant-colonel Brooks was making a 
general attack with a Massachusetts regiment. Here, with a part 
of a platoon, he forced his way into a sally-port ; but a shot from 
the retreating Hessians killed his horse, and wounded him in the 
same leg which had received a wound before Quebec. He 
was borne off from the field, but not until the victory was com- 



320 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

plete ; for the Germans retreated from the works, leaving on the 
field their brave defender, Lieutenant-colonel Breyman, mortally 
wounded. 

The night was now closing in. The victory of the Americans 
was decisive. They had routed the enemy, killed and wounded 
a great number, made many prisoners, taken their field-artillery, 
and gained possession of a part of their works which laid open the 
right and the rear of their camp. They lay all night on their arms, 
within half a mile of the scene of action, prepared to renew the 
assault upon the camp in the morning. 

Surrender of Burgoyne. — Burgoyne shifted his position dur- 
ing the night to heights about a mile to the north, close to the 
river, and covered in front by a ravine. Early in the morning, 
the Americans took possession of the abandoned camp. A ran- 
dom fire of artillery and small-arms was kept up on both sides 
during the day. Gates, however, did not think it advisable to 
force a desperate enemy when in a strong position, at the expense 
of a prodigal waste of blood. He took all measures to cut off his 
retreat and insure a surrender. General Fellows, with fourteen 
hundred men, had already been sent to occupy the high ground 
east of the Hudson opposite Saratoga Ford. Other detachments 
were sent higher up the river in the direction of Lake George. 

Burgoyne saw that nothing was left for him but a prompt and 
rapid retreat to Saratoga. It rained terribly, and in consequence 
of repeated halts, they did not reach Saratoga until the evening of 
the 9th. The bridge over the Fish Kill had been destroyed ; the 
artillery could not cross until the ford was examined. Exhausted 
by fatigue, the men for the most part had not strength nor incli- 
nation to cut wood nor make fire, but threw themselves upon the 
wet ground in their wet clothes, and slept under the pouring rain. 

At daylight on the loth, the artillery and the last of the troops 
passed the fords of the Fish Kill, and took a position upon the 
heights, and in the redoubts formerly constructed there. To 
protect the troops from being attacked in passing the ford by the 
Americans who were approaching, Burgoyne ordered fire to be set 
to the farm-houses and other buildings on the south side of the Fish 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 321 

Kill. Amongst the rest, the noble mansion of General Schuyler, 
with storehouses, granaries, mills, and the other appurtenances of 
a great rural establishment, was entirely consumed. Burgoyne 
himself estimated the value of property destroyed at ten thousand 
pounds sterling. 

The force under General Fellows, posted on the opposite hills 
of the Hudson, now opened a fire from a battery commanding 
the ford of that river. Thus prevented from crossing, Burgoyne 
thought to retreat along the west side as far as Fort George, on 
the way to Canada, and sent out workmen under a strong escort 
to repair the bridges, and open the road toward Fort Edward. 
The escort was soon recalled and the work abandoned ; for the 
Americans appeared in great force, on the heights south of the 
Fish Kill, and seemed preparing to cross and bring on an engage- 
ment. The opposite shores of the Hudson were also lined with de- 
tachments of Americans. Bateaux laden with provisions, which 
had attended the movements of the army, were fired upon, many 
taken, some retaken with loss of life. It was necessary to land 
the provisions from such as remained, and bring them up the hill 
into the camp, which was done under a heavy fire from the 
American artillery. 

Burgoyne called a council of war, in which it was resolved, since 
the bridges could not be repaired, to abandon the artillery and 
baggage, let the troops carry a supply of provisions upon their 
backs, push forward in the night, and force their way across the 
fords at or near Fort Edward. But before the plan could be put 
in execution, scouts brought word that the Americans were en- 
trenched opposite those fords, and encamped in force with can- 
non, on the high ground between Fort Edward and Fort George. 
By this time the American army, augmented by volunteers from 
all quarters, had posted itself in strong positions on both sides of 
the Hudson, so as to extend three-fourths of a circle round the 
enemy. 

Giving up all further attempt at retreat, Burgoyne now fortified 
his camp on the heights to the north of the Fish Kill, still hoping 
that succor might arrive from Sir Henry Clinton, or that an attack 



322 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

upon his trenches might give him some chance of cutting his way 
through. In this situation his troops lay continually on their 
arms. His camp was subjected to cannonading from Fellows' 
batteries on the opposite side of the Hudson, Gates' batteries on 
the south of Fish Kill, and a galling fire from Morgan's riflemen, 
stationed on heights in the rear. The Baroness Riedesel and her 
helpless little ones were exposed to the dangers and horrors of 
this long turmoil. On the morning when the attack w^as opened. 
General Riedesel sent them to take refuge in a house in the 
vicinity. Some women and crippled soldiers had already taken 
refuge there. It was mistaken for head-quarters and cannonaded. 
The baroness retreated into the cellar, laid herself in a corner 
near the door with her children's heads upon her knees, and 
passed a sleepless night of anguish. In the morning the can- 
nonade began anew. Cannon-balls passed through the house 
repeatedly with a tremendous noise. A poor soldier, who was 
about to have a leg amputated, lost the other by one of these 
balls. The day was passed among such horrors. The wives of a 
major, a lieutenant, and a commissary, were her companions in 
misery. " They sat together," she says, " deploring their situation, 
when some one entered to announce bad news." There was 
whispering among her companions, with deep looks of sorrow. 
" I immediately suspected," says she, '' that my husband had been 
killed. I shrieked aloud." She was soothed by assurances that 
nothing had happened to him ; and was given to understand by a 
sidelong glance, that the wife of the lieutenant was the unfortunate 
one ; her husband had been killed. 

For six days, she and her children remained in this dismal place 
of refuge. The cellar was spacious, with three compartments, but 
the number of occupants increased. The wounded were brought 
in to be relieved — or to die. She remained with her children 
near the door, to escape more easily in case of fire. She put 
straw under mattresses ; on these she lay with her little ones, and 
her female servants slept near her. There was great distress for 
water. The river was near, but the Americans shot every one who 
approached it. A soldier's wife at length summoned resolution. 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 323 

and brought a supply. "The Americans," adds the baroness, "told 
us afterwards, that they spared her on account of her sex.'' 

Burgoyne was now reduced to despair. It was found that the 
provisions on hand, even upon short allowance, would not suffice 
for more than three days. A council of war was called and the 
deliberations were brief. All concurred in the necessity of opening 
a treaty with General Gates, for a surrender on honorable terms. 
While they were yet deliberating, an eighteen-pound ball passed 
through the tent, sweeping across the table round which they were 
seated. 

Negotiations were accordingly opened on the 13th, under sanc- 
tion of a flag. The first terms offered by Gates were that the 
enemy should lay down their arms within their entrenchments and 
surrender themselves prisoners of war. These were indignantly 
rejected, with an intimation that, if persisted in, hostilides must 
recommence. Counter-proposals were then made by General 
Burgoyne, and finally accepted by General Gates. According to 
these, the British troops were to march out of the camp with 
artillery and all the honors of war, to a fixed place, where they 
were to pile their arms at a word of command from their own 
officers. They were to be allowed a free passage to Europe upon 
condition of not serving again in America, during the present war. 
The army was not to be separated, especially the men from the 
officers ; roll-calling and other regular duties were to be per- 
mitteci ; the officers were to be on parole, and to wear their side- 
arms. All private property to be sacred ; no baggage to be 
searched or molested. 

In the night of the i6th, before the articles of capitulation had 
been signed, a British officer from the army below made his way 
into the camp, with dispatches from Sir Henry Clinton, announ- 
cing that he had captured the forts in the Highlands, and had 
pushed detachments further up the Hudson. Burgoyne now sub- 
mitted to the consideration of his officers, " whether it was con- 
sistent with public faith, and if so, expedient, to suspend the 
execution of the treaty and trust to events." His own opinion 
inclined in the affirmative, but the majority of the council deter- 



324 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

mined that the public faith was fully plighted. The capitulation 
was accordingly signed by Burgoyne on the i yth of October. 

The British army, at the time of the surrender, was reduced by 
capture, death, and desertion, from nine thousand to five thousand 
seven hundred and fifty-two men. That of Gates, regulars and 
militia had swollen until it amounted to more than twenty thousand. 

When the British troops marched forth to deposit their arms at 
the appointed place, Colonel Wilkinson, the adjutant-general, was 
the only American soldier to be seen. Gates had ordered his 
troops to keep rigidly within their lines, that they might not add 
by their presence to the humiliation of a brave enemy. Wilkinson, 
in his memoirs, describes the first meeting of Gates and Burgoyne, 
which took place at the head of the American camp. They were 
attended by their staffs and by other general officers. Burgoyne 
was in a rich royal uniform. Gates in a plain blue frock. When 
they had approached nearly within sword's length they reined up 
and halted. Burgoyne, raising his hat most gracefully, said : " The 
fortune of war, General Gates, has made me your prisoner ; " to 
which the other, returning his salute, replied, " I shall always be 
ready to testify that it has not been through any fault of your 
Excellency." 

It was the lot of Burgoyne to have coals of fire heaped on his 
head. One of the first persons whom he encountered in the 
American camp was General Schuyler. He attempted to make 
some explanation or excuse about the recent destruction of his 
property. Schuyler begged him not to think of it, as the occasion 
justified it, according to the principles and rules of war. " He did 
m^ore," said Burgoyne, in a speech before the House of Commons : 
" he sent an aide-de-camp to conduct me to Albany ; in order, as 
he expressed it, to procure better quarters than a stranger might 
be able to find. That gentleman conducted me to a very elegant 
house, and, to my great surprise, presented me to Mrs. Schuyler 
and her family. In that house I remained during my whole stay 
in Albany, with a table of more than twenty covers for me and my 
friends, and every other demonstration of hospitality." 

This was indeed realizing the vaunted courtesy and magnanimity 
of the age of chivalry. 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 325 

The surrender of Burgoyne was soon followed by the evacuation 
of Ticonderoga and Fort Independence. As to the armament on 
the Hudson, its commanders received, in the midst of their burn- 
ing and plundering, the astounding intelligence of the capture of 
the army with which they had come to co-operate. Nothing 
remained for them, therefore, but to drop down the river and 
return to New York. The fortresses in the Highlands could not 
be maintained, and were accordingly evacuated and destroyed. 

Battle of Germantown. — We left Washington encamped at 
Pott's Grove towards the end of September, giving his troops a 
few days' repose after their severe fatigues. His force amounted 
to about eight thousand Continentals and three thousand militia ; 
with these he advanced, on the 30th of September, to Skippack 
Creek, about fourteen miles from Germantown, where the main 
body of the British army lay encamped, a detachment under 
Cornwallis occupying Philadelphia. 

Immediately after the battle of Brandywine, Admiral Lord Howe, 
with great exertions, had succeeded in getting his ships of war and 
transports round from the Chesapeake into the Delaware, and had 
anchored them along the western shore, from Reedy Island to 
Newcastle. They were prevented from approaching nearer by 
obstructions which the Americans had placed in the river. The 
lowest of these were at Billingsport (or Bylling's Point), where 
chevaux-de-frise in the channel of the river were protected by a 
strong redoubt on the Jersey shore. Higher up were Fort Mifflin 
on Mud (or Fort) Island, and Fort Mercer on the Jersey shore, 
with chevaux-de-frise between them. Washington had exerted 
himself to throw a garrison into Fort Mifflin, and keep up the 
obstructions of the river. "If these can be maintained," said he, 
" General Howe's situation will not be the most agreeable ; for if 
his supplies can be stopped by water, it may easily be done by 
land. To do both shall be my utmost endeavor ; and I am not 
without hope that the acquisition of Philadelphia may, instead of 
his good fortune, prove his ruin." 

Sir William Howe was perfectly aware of this, and had con- 
certed operations with his brother, by land and water, to reduce 



326 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the forts and clear away the obstructions of the river. With this 
view he detached a part of his force into the Jerseys. Washington 
had been for some days anxiously on the lookout for an opportu- 
nity to strike a blow, when two intercepted letters gave him intelli- 
gence of this movement. He immediately determined to make 
an attack upon the British camp at Germantown, while weakened 
by the absence of this detachment. To understand the plan of 
the attack, some description of the British place of encampment 
is necessary. 

Germantown, at that time, was httle more than one continued 
street, extending two miles north and south. The houses were 
mostly of stone, low and substantial, with steep roofs and project- 
ing eaves. They stood apart from each other, with fruit trees in 
front and small gardens. Beyond the village, and about a hundred 
yards east of the road, stood a spacious stone edifice, with orna- 
mented grounds, statues, groves, and shrubbery, the country-seat 
of Benjamin Chew, chief justice of Pennsylvania previous to the 
Revolution : we shall have more to say concerning this mansion 
presently. 

Four roads approached the village from above ; that is, from 
the north. The Skippack, which was the main road, led over 
Chestnut Hill and Mount Airy down to and through the village 
toward Philadelphia, forming the street of which we have just 
spoken. On its right, and nearly parallel, was the Monatawny road, 
passing near the Schuylkill, and entering the main road below the 
village. On the left of the Skippack or main road, was the Lime- 
kiln road, running nearly parallel to it for a time, and then turning 
towards it, almost at right angles, so as to enter the village at the 
market-place. Still further to the left or east, and outside of all, 
was the Old York road, falHng into the main road some distance 
below the village. 

The main body of the British forces lay encamped across the 
lower part of the village, divided into almost equal parts by the 
main street or Skippack road. The right wing, commanded by 
General Grant, was to the east of the road, the left wing to the 
west. Each wing was covered by strong detachments, and 




To face page 326. 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 327 

guarded by cavalry. General Howe had his head- quarters in the 
rear. 

The advance of the army, composed of the 2d battalion of 
British light infantry, with a train of artillery, was more than two 
miles from the main body, on the west of the road, with an out- 
lying picket stationed with two six-pounders at Allen's house on 
Mount Airy. xAbout three-quarters of a mile in the rear of the 
light infantry, lay encamped in a field opposite " Chew's House," 
the 40th regiment of infantry, under Colonel Musgrave. 

According to Washington's plan for the attack, Sullivan was to 
command the right wing, composed of his own division, principally 
Maryland troops, and the division of General Wayne. He was to 
be sustained by a corps de reserve, under Lord Stirling, composed 
of Nash's North Carolina and Maxwell's Virginia brigades, and to 
be flanked by the brigade of General Conway. He was to march 
down the Skippack road and attack the left wing ; at the same 
time General Armstrong, with the Pennsylvania militia, was to 
pass down the Monatawny road, and get upon the enemy's left 
and rear. 

Greene, with the left wing, composed of his own division and 
the division of General Stephen, and flanked by McDougall's 
brigade, was to march down the Limekiln road, so as to enter 
the village at the market-house. The two divisions were to attack 
the enemy's right wing in front, McDougall with his brigade to 
attack it in flank, while Smallwood's division of Maryland mihtia 
and Forman's Jersey brigade, making a circuit by the Old York 
road, were to attack it in the rear. Two-thirds of the forces were 
thus directed against the enemy's right wing, under the idea that, 
if it could be forced, the whole army must be pushed into the 
Schuylkill, or compelled to surrender. The attack was to begin 
on all quarters at daybreak. 

About dusk, on the 3d of October, the army left its encampment 
at Matuchen Hills, by its different routes. Washington accom- 
panied the right wing. It had fifteen miles of weary march to 
make over rough roads, so that it was after daybreak when the 
troops emerged from the woods on Chestnut Hill. The morning 



328 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

was dark with a heavy fog. A detachment advanced to attack the 
enemy's out-picket, stationed at Allen's house. The patrol was 
led by Captain Allen McLane, a brave Maryland officer, well ac- 
quainted with the ground, and with the position of the enemy. 
He fell in with double sentries, whom he killed with the loss of 
one man. The alarm, however, was given ; the distant roll of a 
drum and the call to arms, resounded through the murky air. 
The picket guard, after discharging their two six-pounders, were 
routed, and retreated down the south side of Mount Airy to the 
battalion of light infantry who were forming in order of battle. 
As their pursuers descended into the valley, the sun rose, but was 
soon obscured. Wayne led the attack upon the light infantry. 
"They broke at first," writes he, "without waiting to receive us, 
but soon formed again, when a heavy and well-directed fire took 
place on both sides." 

They again gave way, but being supported by the grenadiers, 
returned to the charge. Sullivan's division and Conway's brigade 
formed on the west of the road, and joined in the attack ; the rest 
of the troops were too far to the north to render any assistance. 
The infantry, after fighting bravely for a time, broke and ran, leav- 
ing their artillery behind. They were hotly pursued by Wayne. 
His troops remembered the bloody 20th of September, and the 
ruthless slaughter of their comrades. " They pushed on with the 
bayonet," says Wayne, " and took ample vengeance for that night's 
work." The officers endeavored to restrain their fury towards 
those who cried for mercy, but to little purpose. It was a terrible 
melee. The fog, together with the smoke of the cannonry and 
musketry, made it almost as dark as night ; our people mistaking 
one another for the enemy, frequently exchanged shots before they 
discovered their error. The whole of the enemy's advance were 
driven from their camping ground, leaving their tents standing, 
with all their baggage. Colonel Musgrave, with six companies of 
the 40th regiment, threw himself into Chew's House, barricaded 
the doors and lower windows, and took post above stairs ; the 
main torrent of the retreat passed the house pursued by Wayne 
into the village* 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 329 

As the residue of this division of the army came up to join in 
the pursuit, Musgrave opened a fire of musketry upon them from 
the upper windows of his citadel. This brought them to a halt. 
Some of the officers were for pushing on ; but Knox stoutly ob- 
jected, insisting on the old military maxim, never to leave a gar- 
risoned castle in the rear. His objection unluckily prevailed. A 
flag was sent with a summons to surrender. A young Virginian, 
Lieutenant Smith, volunteered to be the bearer. As he was ad- 
vancing, he was fired upon and received a mortal wound. This 
house was now cannonaded, but the artillery was too light to have 
the desired effect. An attempt was made to set fire to the base- 
ment. He who attempted it was shot dead from a grated cellar 
window. Half an hour was thus spent in vain \ scarce any of the 
defenders of the house were injured, though many of the assailants 
were slain. At length a regiment was left to keep guard upon the 
mansion and hold its garrison in check, and the rear division 
again pressed forward. 

This half-hour's delay, however, of one half of the army discon- 
certed the action. The divisions and brigades thus separated 
from each other by the skirmishing attack upon Chew's House, 
could not be reunited. The fog and smoke rendered all objects 
indistinct at thirty yards' distance ; the different parts of the army 
knew nothing of the position or movements of each other, and the 
commander-in-chief could take no view nor gain any information 
of the situation of the whole. The original plan of attack was 
only effectively carried into operation in the centre. The flanks 
and rear of the enemy were nearly unmolested ; still the action, 
though disconnected, irregular, and partial, was animated in vari- 
ous quarters. Sullivan, being reinforced by Nash's North Carolina 
troops and Conway's brigade, pushed on a mile beyond Chew's 
House, where the left wing of the enemy gave way before him. 

Greene and Stephen, with their divisions, having had to make 
a circuit, were late in coming into action, and became separated 
from each other, part of Stephen's division being arrested by a 
heavy fire from Chew's House and pausing to return it ; Greene, 
however, with his division, comprising the brigades of Muhlenberg 



330 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and Scott, pressed rapidly forward, drove an advance regiment of 
light infantry before him, took a number of prisoners, and made 
his way quite to the market-house in the centre of the village, 
where he encountered the right wing of the British drawn up to 
receive him. The impetuosity of his attack had an evident effect 
upon the enemy, who began to waver. Forman and Smallwood, 
with the Jersey and Maryland militia, were just showing themselves 
on the right flank of the enemy, and our troops seemed on the 
point of carrying the whole encampment. At this moment a sin- 
gular panic seized our army. Various causes are assigned for it. 
Sullivan alleges that his troops had expended all their cartridges, 
and were alarmed by seeing the enemy gathering on their left, 
and by the cry of a light horseman, that the enemy were getting 
round them. Wayne's division, which had pushed the enemy 
three miles, was alarmed by the approach of a large body of 
American troops on its left flank, which it mistook for foes, and 
fell back in defiance of every effort of its officers to rally it. In 
its retreat it came upon Stephen's division and threw it into a 
panic, being, in its turn, mistaken for the enemy ; thus all fell into 
confusion, and our army fled from their own victory. 

In the meantime, the enemy having recovered from the first 
effects of the surprise, advanced in their turn. General Grey 
brought up the left wing, and pressed upon the American troops 
as they receded. Lord CornwaUis, with a squadron of light horse 
from Philadelphia, arrived just in time to join in the pursuit. 

The retreat of the Americans was attended with less loss than 
might have been expected, and they carried off all their cannon 
and wounded. This was partly owing to the good generalship of 
Greene, in keeping up a retreating fight with the enemy for nearly 
five miles ; and pardy to a check given by Wayne, who turned his 
cannon upon the enemy from an eminence, near White Marsh 
Church, and brought them to a stand. The retreat continued 
through the day to Perkiomen Creek, a distance of twenty miles. 

The loss of the enemy in this action is stated by them to be 
seventy-one kiUed, four hundred and fifteen wounded, and four- 
teen missing : among the killed was Brigadier - general Agnew. 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 331 

The American loss was one hundred and fifty killed, five hundred 
and twenty-one wounded, and about four hundred taken prison- 
ers. Among the killed was General Nash of North Carolina. 

Washington's plan of attack was perhaps too widely extended 
for strict concert, and too complicated for precise co-operation, as 
it had to be conducted in the night, and with a large proportion 
of undisciplined militia ; and yet, a bewildering fog alone appears 
to have prevented its complete success. But although the Amer- 
icans were balked of the victory, which seemed within their 
grasp, the impression made by the audacity of this attempt upon 
Germantown, was greater, we are told, than that caused by any 
single incident of the war after Lexington and Bunker Hill. 

It produced a great effect also in France. The Count Ver- 
gennes observed to the American commissioners in Paris on their 
first interview, that nothing struck him so much as General Wash- 
ington's attacking and giving battle to General Howe's army; that to 
bring an army raised within a year to this pass promised everything. 

Valley Forge. — It was now the great object of the Howes to 
reduce Forts Mercer and Mifflin, and thus to get complete con- 
trol of the Delaware river. Without this, it would probably be 
impossible to hold Philadelphia during the winter, since it was in 
Washington's power to cut off all supplies attempting to reach 
that city by land. The reduction of the forts was at length 
accomplished late in November, after more than a month of hard 
work and several bloody repulses. Had Gates behaved properly 
after the surrender of Burgoyne, and sent back to Washington the 
reinforcements no longer needed at the north, it has been thought 
that the forts might have defied every effort of the enemy. But 
Gates's weak head was turned with applause. He became insub- 
ordinate, sent his reports directly to Congress instead of sending 
them to Washington, and even aspired to oust the latter from his 
command, as he had already ousted Schuyler. Many people were 
ready to help him in this work. The air rang with the praises of 
Gates. Had not he vanquished and captured a whole army, while 
Washington, after a succession of defeats, had nothing left him 
but to take refuge in secure winter-quarters ? 



332 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The plan adopted by Washington, after holdmg a council of 
war, and weighing the discordant opinions of his officers, was to 
hut the army for the winter at Valley Forge, in Chester County, 
on the west side of the Schuylkill, about twenty miles from Phila- 
delphia. Here he would be able to keep a vigilant eye on that 
city, and at the same time protect a great extent of country. 

Sad and dreary was the march to Valley Forge ; uncheered by 
the recollection of any recent triumph, as was the march to win- 
ter-quarters in the preceding year. Hungry and cold were the 
poor fellows who had so long been keeping the field ; for provis- 
ions were scant, clothing worn out, and so badly off were they 
for shoes, that the footsteps of many might be tracked in blood. 
Yet at this very time we are told, " hogsheads of shoes, stockings, 
and clothing, were lying at different places on the roads and in the 
woods, perishing for want of teams, or of money to pay the team- 
sters." Such were the consequences of the deranged condidon of 
the commissariat. 

Arrived at Valley Forge on the 17 th of December, the troops 
had still to brave the wintry weather in their tents, until they could 
cut down trees and construct huts for their accommodation. Those 
who were on the sick list had to seek temporary shelter wherever 
it could be found, among the farmers of the neighborhood. Ac- 
cording to the regulations in the orderly book, each hut was to be 
fourteen feet by sixteen, with walls of logs filled in with clay, six 
feet and a half high ; the fire-places were of logs plastered ; and 
logs split into rude planks or slabs furnished the roofing. A hut 
was allotted to twelve non-commissioned officers and soldiers. 
A general officer had a hut to himself. The same was allowed to 
the staff of each brigade and regiment, and the field-officer of 
each regiment ; and a hut to the commissioned officers of each 
company. The huts of the soldiery fronted on streets. Those 
of the officers formed a line in the rear, and the encampment 
gradually assumed the look of a rude military village. 

Scarce had the troops been two days employed in these labors, 
when, before daybreak on the 2 2d, word was brought that a body 
of the enemy had made a sortie toward Chester, apparendy on a 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. ^ZZ 

foraging expedition. Washington issued orders to generals Hunt- 
ington and Varnum, to hold their troops in readiness to march 
against them. Their replies bespeak the forlorn state of the army. 
" Fighting will be far preferable to starving," writes Huntington. 
" My brigade are out of provisions, nor can the commissary obtain 
any meat. I have used every argument my imagination can invent 
to make the soldiers easy, but I despair of being able to do it 
much longer." " It's a very pleasing circumstance to the division 
under my command," writes Varnum, "that there is a probability 
of their marching; three days successively we have been des- 
titute of bread. Two days we have been entirely without meat. 
The men must be supplied, or they cannot be commanded." 
In fact, a dangerous mutiny had broken out among the famish- 
ing troops in the preceding night, which their officers had had 
great difficulty in quelling. 

Washington instantly wrote to the President of Congress on the 
subject. " I do not know from what cause this alarming defi- 
ciency or rather total failure of supplies arises ; but unless more 
vigorous exertions and better regulations take place in that line 
(the commissaries' department) immediately, the army must dis- 
solve. I have done all in my power by remonstrating, by writing, 
by ordering the commissaries on this head, from time to time ; 
but without any good effect, or obtaining more than a present 
scanty relief Owing to this, the march of the army has been 
delayed on more than one interesting occasion, in the course of 
the present campaign ; and had a body of the enemy crossed the 
Schuylkill this morning, as I had reason to expect, the divisions 
which I ordered to be in readiness to march and meet them could 
not have moved." 

Scarce had Washington dispatched this letter, when he learnt 
that the Legislature of Pennsylvania had addressed a remonstrance 
to Congress against his going into winter-quarters, instead of keep- 
ing in the open field. This letter, received in his forlorn situation, 
surrounded by an unhoused, scantily clad, half-starved army, shiv- 
ering in the midst of December's snow and cold, put an end to 
his forbearance, and drew from him another letter to the President 



334 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of Congress, dated on the 23d, which we shall largely quote ; not 
only for its manly and truthful eloquence, but for the exposition it 
gives of the difficulties of his situation, mainly caused by unwise 
and intermeddling legislation. 

And first as to the commissariat : — 

" Though I have been tender, heretofore," writes he, " of giving 
any opinion, or lodging complaints ; yet, finding that the inactivity 
of the army, whether for want of provisions, clothes, or other 
essentials, is charged to my account, not only by the common 
vulgar, but by those in power, it is time to speak plain in exculpa- 
tion of myself. With truth, then, I can declare, that no man, in 
my opinion, ever had his measures more impeded than I have by 
every department of the army. 

" Since the month of July, we have had no assistance from the 
quartermaster-general ; and to want of assistance from this depart- 
ment, the commissary-general charges great part of his deficiency. 
To this I am to add, that notwithstanding it is a standing order, 
and often repeated, that the troops shall always have two days' 
provisions by them, that they might be ready at any sudden call ; 
yet an opportunity has scarcely ever offered of taking an advantage 
of the enemy, that it has not been either totally obstructed, or 
greatly impeded on this account. ... As a proof of the Httle 
benefit received from a clothier-general, as a further proof of the 
inability of an army, under the circumstances of this, to perform 
the common duties of soldiers (besides a number of men confined 
to hospitals for want of shoes, and others in farmers' houses on 
the same account) , we have, by a field return this day made, no 
less than two thousand eight hundred and ninety-eight men now 
in camp unfit for duty, because they are barefoot, and otherwise 
naked. By the same return, it appears that our whole strength in 
continental troops, including the eastern brigades, which have 
joined us since the surrender of General Burgoyne, exclusive of 
the Maryland troops sent to Wilmington, amounts to no more than 
eight thousand two hundred in camp fit for duty ; notwithstanding 
which, and that since the 4th instant, our numbers fit for dujy, 
from the hardships and exposures they have undergone, particu- 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 335 

larly on account of blankets (numbers have been obliged, and still 
are, to sit up all night by fires, instead of taking comfortable rest 
in a natural and common way) , have decreased near two thousand 
men. 

"We find gentlemen, without knowing whether the army was 
really going into winter-quarters or not (for I am sure no resolu- 
tion of mine could warrant the remonstrance), reprobating the 
measure as much as if they thought the soldiers were made of 
stocks or stones, and equally insensible of frost and snow ; and 
moreover, as if they conceived it easily practicable for an inferior 
army, under the disadvantages I described ours to be — which are 
by no means exaggerated — to confine* a superior one, in all 
respects well appointed and provided for a winter's campaign, 
within the city of Philadelphia, and to cover from depredation and 
waste the states of Pennsylvania and Jersey. But what makes this 
matter still more extraordinary in my eye, is, that these very 
gentlemen, who were well apprised of the nakedness of the troops 
from ocular demonstration, who thought their own soldiers worse 
clad than others, and who advised me near a month ago to post- 
pone the execution of a plan I was about to adopt, in consequence 
of a resolve in Congress for seizing clothes, under strong assurances 
that an ample supply would be collected in ten days, agreeably to 
a decree of the state (not one article of which, by the by, is yet 
come to hand), should think a winter's campaign, and the cover- 
ing of those states from the invasion of an enemy, so easy and 
practicable a business. I can assure those gentlemen, that it is a 
much easier, and less distressing thing, to draw remonstrances in a 
comfortable room by a good fireside, than to occupy a cold, bleak 
hill, and sleep under frost and snow, without clothes or blankets. 
However, although they seem to have little feeling for the naked 
and distressed soldiers, I feel abundantly for them, and, from my 
soul, I pity those miseries, which it is neither in my power to 
relieve nor prevent. 

" It is for these reasons, therefore, that I have dwelt upon the 
subject ; and it adds not a little to my other difficulties and dis- 
tress, to find that much more is expected from me than is possible 



336 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

to be performed, and that, upon the ground of safety and policy, 
I am obhged to conceal the true state of the army from pubhc 
view, and thereby expose myself to detraction and calumny." 

In the present exigency, to save his camp from desolation, and 
to relieve his starving soldiery, he was compelled to exercise the 
authority recently given him by Congress, to forage the country 
round, seize supplies wherever he could find them, and pay for 
them in money or in certificates redeemable by Congress. He 
exercised these powers with great reluctance ; rurally inclined 
himself, he had a strong sympathy with the cultivators of the soil, 
and ever regarded the yeomanry with a paternal eye. He was 
apprehensive, moreover, of irritating the jealousy of military sway, 
prevalent throughout the country, and of corrupting the morals of 
the army. "Such procedures," writes he to the President of 
Congress, "may give a momentary relief; but if repeated, will 
prove of the most pernicious consequence. Beside spreading dis- 
affection, jealousy, and fear among the people, they never fail, 
even in the most veteran troops, under the most rigid and exact 
discipline, to raise in the soldiery a disposition to hcentiousness, 
to plunder and robbery, difficult to suppress afterward, and which 
has proved not only ruinous to the inhabitants, but in many 
instances to armies themselves. I regret the occasion that com- 
pelled us to the measure the other day, and shall consider it the 
greatest of our misfortunes if we should be under the necessity of 
practising it again." 

How truly in all these trying scenes of his military career, does 
the patriot rise above the soldier ! 

With these noble and high-spirited appeals to Congress, we 
close Washington's operations for 1777 ; one of the most arduous 
and eventful years of his military Hfe, and one of the most trying 
to his character and fortunes. He began it with an empty army- 
chest, and a force dwindled down to four thousand half-disciplined 
men. Throughout the year he had had to contend, not merely 
with the enemy, but with the parsimony and meddlesome interfer- 
ence of Congress. In his most critical times, that body had left 
him without funds and without reinforcements. It had made 



FIRST GREAT TRIUMPH— SARATOGA. 337 

some promotions contrary to his advice, and contrary to military 
usage, tliereby wronging and disgusting some of his bravest offi- 
cers. It had changed the commissariat in the very midst of a 
campaign, and thereby thrown the whole service into confusion. 

Among so many cross-purposes and discouragements, it was a 
difficult task for Washington to " keep the life and soul of the 
army together." Yet he had done so. Marvellous indeed was the 
manner in which he had soothed the discontents of his aggrieved 
officers, and reconciled them to an ill-requiting service ; and still 
more marvellous the manner in which he had breathed his own spirit 
of patience and perseverance into his yeoman soldiery, during their 
sultry marchings and countermarchings through the Jerseys, under 
all kinds of privations, with no visible object of pursuit to stimu- 
late their ardor, hunting, as it were, the rumored apparitions of an 
unseen fleet. 

All this time, too, while endeavoring to ascertain and counteract 
the operations of I>ord Howe upon the ocean, and his brother 
upon the land, he was directing and aiding military measures 
against Burgoyne in the North. Three games were in a manner 
going on under his supervision. The operations of the com- 
mander-in-chief are not always most obvious to the public eye ; 
victories may be planned in his tent, of which subordinate gener- 
als get the credit ; and most of the moves which ended in giving 
a triumphant check to Burgoyne may be traced to Washington's 
shifting camp in the Jerseys. 

It has been an irksome task in some of the preceding chap- 
ters, to notice the under -current of intrigue by which some 
part of this year's campaign was disgraced ; yet even-handed 
justice requires that such machinations should be exposed. We 
have shown how successful they were in displacing the noble- 
hearted Schuyler from the head of the Northern department ; the 
same machinations were now at work to undermine the com- 
mander-in-chief, and elevate the putative hero of Saratoga on his 
ruins. He was painfully aware of them ; yet in no part of the war 
did he more thoroughly evince that magnanimity which was his 
grand characteristic, than in the last scenes of this campaign. 



338 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

where he rose above the taimtings of the press, the sneerings of 
the cabal, the murmurs of the pubhc, the suggestions of some of 
his friends, and the throbbing impulses of his own courageous 
heart, and adhered to that Fabian policy which he considered 
essential to the safety of the cause. To dare is often the impulse 
of selfish ambition or harebrained valor : to forbear is at times the 
proof of real greatness. 

The Conway Cabal. — While censure and detraction had thus 
dogged Washington throughout his harassing campaign, and fol- 
lowed him to his forlorn encampment at Valley Forge, Gates was 
the constant theme of popular eulogium, and was held up as the 
only man capable of retrieving the desperate fortunes of the South. 
Letters from his friends in Congress urged him to hasten on, take 
his seat at the head of the Board of War, assume the management 
of military affairs, and save the country ! 

Gates was not a strong-minded man. Is it a wonder, then, that 
his brain should be bewildered by the fumes of incense offered up 
on every side ? A chque or cabal was formed with the purpose of 
driving Washington from the chief command of the army and 
putting Gates in his place. Most active among these plotters was 
General Thomas Conway, an Irishman who had served many 
years in the French army. Associated with him in this work were 
Thomas Mifflin of Pennsylvania, the inefficient quartermaster- 
general ; and James Lovell,"one of the Massachusetts delegates in 
the Continental Congress. They labored industriously to stir up 
ill-feeling toward Washington in Congress, and by dint of anony- 
mous letters and cruel innuendoes to make him so uncomfortable 
as to force him to resign his position as commander of the army. 
For a short time the cabal seemed to prosper, but Washington 
detected the methods of the plotters. In a correspondence which 
ensued with Gates, the latter general committed himself to a 
series of most disgraceful falsehoods, which were remorselessly 
exposed by Washington. The light thus thrown upon the base 
and silly character of Gates damaged the cabal very seriously; 
and its ruin was completed by the ludicrous failure of a winter 
expedition planned by Gates and his friends for the invasion of 
Canada. 



AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFFENSIVE. 339 

Bv the spring of 1778 mo^' °f '^e leading men who had favored 
the cabal had become ashamed of it, Conway left the army and 
presently returned to France, and Washington's posmon became 
^o cure than ever. The quahty of the army was much n.- 
Toved during the winter, under the training of Baron von Steuben^ 
a highly educated officer who had served on the staff of F.eder.c 
the GrLt The services of Steuben were more valuable than 
Ihose of any other foreigner who served in our army except 
Lafayette. 

§ 8. Americans assume the Offensive. 
The French Alliance. -The capture of Burgoyne and his army 
wafnow operating with powerful effect on the cabine s o b^ 
England and France. With the former it was -^^^ w^th e 
apprehension that France was about to espouse the American 
cau? The consequence was Lord North's " Conahatory Bills 

Stted by him to Parliament, and P-d with ut s hgh op 0^ 
sition One of these bills regulated taxation in the American 
c onies in a manner which, it was trusted, would obviate every 
oSn The other authorized the appointment of commis- 
sSner dothed with powers to negotiate with the existing govern- 
Tents to proclaim 1 cessation of hostilities; to grant pardons, 
and to'adopt other measures of a conciliatory nature ^^ 

listers in relinquishing them without a further s^rugg^ 

Tntelli^ence that a treaty between France and the United btates 
had cS been concluded at Paris, induced the British mims er 
had actually ^^ j.^^^^^^,, j,^^ ^ffg^ts 

o^f tlXfy upon! Public mind. General Tryon caused copies 
n f to be printed in New York and circulated through the country. 
° The S of the capitulation of Burgoyne had been equally 



340 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

efficacious in quickening the action of the French cabinet. The 
negotiations, which had gone on so slowly as almost to reduce our 
commissioners to despair, were brought to a happy termination, 
and on the 2d of May, a messenger arrived express from France 
with two treaties, one of amity and commerce, the other of defen- 
sive alliance, signed in Paris on the 6th of February by M. Girard 
on the part of France, and by Benjamin Franklin, Silas Deane, and 
Arthur Lee on the part of the United States. This last treaty 
stipulated that, should war ensue between France and England, it 
should be made a common cause by the contracting parties, in 
which neither should make truce or peace with Great Britain with- 
out the consent of the other, nor either lay down their arms until 
the independence of the United States was established. 

These treaties were unanimously ratified by Congress, and their 
promulgation was celebrated by public rejoicings throughout the 
country. The 6th of May was set apart for a mihtary fete at the 
camp at Valley Forge. The army was assembled in best array ; 
there was solemn thanksgiving by the chaplains at the head of each 
brigade ; after which a grand parade, a national discharge of thir- 
teen guns, a general feu de joie, and shouts of the whole army, 
" Long live the King of France — Hurra for the American States." 
A banquet succeeded, at which Washington dined in public with 
all the officers of his army, attended by a band of music. 

The military career of Sir William Howe in the United States 
was now drawing to a close. His conduct of the war had given 
much dissatisfaction in England. His enemies observed that 
everything gained by the troops was lost by the general ; that he 
had suffered an enemy with less than four thousand men to recon- 
quer a province which he had recently reduced, and lay a kind of 
siege to his army in their winter-quarters ; and that he had brought 
a sad reverse upon the British arms by failing to co-operate vigor- 
ously and efficiendy with Burgoyne. Sir William, on his part, had 
considered himself slighted by the ministry; his suggestions, he 
said, were disregarded, and the reinforcements withheld which he 
considered indispensable for the successful conduct of the war. 
He had therefore tendered his resignation, which had been 



AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFFENSIVE. 341 

promptly accepted, and Sir Henry Clinton ordered to relieve him. 
Clinton arrived in Philadelphia on the 8th of May, and took com- 
mand of the army on the nth. 

Battle of Monmouth. — Soon after Sir Henry CHnton had taken 
the command, the exchange of General Lee, long delayed by 
various impediments, was effected ; and Lee was reinstated in his 
position of second in command in the Continental army. Early 
in June, it was evident that a total evacuation of Philadelphia was 
on the point of taking place ; and circumstances convinced Wash- 
ington that the march of the enemy would be through the Jerseys. 
Some of his officers thought differently, especially General Lee, who 
had now the command of a division composed of Poor's, Varnum's, 
and Huntington's brigades. Lee, since his return to the army, had 
resumed his old habit of cynical supervision, and had his circle of 
admirers, among whom he indulged in caustic comments on mili- 
tary affairs and the merits of commanders. In consequence of his 
suggestions, Washington called a general council of war on the 
I yth, to consider whether to undertake any enterprise against the 
enemy in their present circumstances. Lee spoke eloquently on 
the occasion. He was opposed to an attack of any kind. He 
would make a bridge of gold for the enemy. They were nearly 
equal in number to the Americans, and far superior in discipline. 
An attack would endanger the safety of the cause which was now 
in a prosperous state, in consequence of the foreign alliance just 
formed. He advised merely to follow the enemy, observe their 
motions, and prevent them from committing any excesses. 

Lee's opinions had still great weight with the army; most of 
the officers concurred with him ; but Greene, Lafayette, Wayne, 
and Cadwalader could not brook that the enemy should evacuate 
the city, and make a long march through the country unmolested. 
An opportunity might present itself of striking some signal blow, 
that would indemnify the American soldiers for all they had suf- 
fered in their long and dreary encampment at Valley Forge. 
Washington's heart was with this latter counsel ; but seeing such 
want of unanimity among his generals, he requested their opinions 
in writing. Before these were given in, word was brought that the 
enemy had actually evacuated the city. 



342 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Sir Henry had taken his measures with great secrecy and dis- 
patch. The army commenced moving at three o'clock on the 
morning of the i8th, retiring to a point of land below the town 
formed by the confluence of the Delaware and Schuylkill, and 
crossing the former river in boats. By ten o'clock in the morn- 
ing the rear-guard landed on the Jersey shore. On the first intel- 
ligence of this movement, Washington detached Maxwell with his 
brigade, to co-operate with Dickinson and the New Jersey militia 
in harassing the enemy on their march. He sent Arnold, also, 
with a force to take command of Philadelphia, that officer being 
not yet sufficiently recovered from his wound for field service ; 
then breaking up his camp at Valley Forge, he pushed forward 
with his main force in pursuit of the enemy. 

Greene, Wayne, and Lafayette advised that the rear of the enemy 
should be attacked by a strong detachment, while the main army 
should be so disposed as to give a general battle, should circum- 
stances render it advisable. As this opinion coincided with his 
own, Washington determined to act upon it. 

Sir Henry Clinton in the meantime had advanced to Allentown, 
on his way to Brunswick, to embark on the Raritan. Finding the 
passage of that river likely to be strongly disputed by the forces 
under Washington, and others advancing from the north under 
Gates, he changed his plan, and turned to the right by a road 
leading through Freehold to Navasink and Sandy Hook, to em- 
bark at the latter place. 

Washington, no longer in doubt as to the route of the enemy's 
march, detached Wayne with one thousand men to join the 
advanced corps, which, thus augmented, was upward of four 
thousand strong. The command of the advance properly belonged 
to Lee as senior major-general ; but it was eagerly solicited by 
Lafayette, as an attack by it was intended, and Lee was strenuously 
opposed to everything of the kind. Washington willingly gave his 
consent, provided General Lee were satisfied with the arrangement. 
The latter ceded the command without hesitation, observing to 
the marquis that he was well pleased to be freed from all respon- 
sibility in executing plans which he was sure would fail. 



AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFFENSIVE. 343 

Lafayette set out on the 25th ; while Washington, leaving his bag- 
gage at Kingston, moved with the main body to Cranberry, three 
miles in the rear of the advanced corps, to be ready to support 
it. Scarcely, however, had Lee relinquished the command, when 
he changed his mind, and in a note to Washington, he entreated to 
have the command of the detachment. Washington was perplexed 
how to satisfy Lee without wounding the feelings of Lafayette. A 
change in the disposition of the enemy's line of march furnished 
an expedient. Sir Henry Clinton, finding himself harassed by 
light troops on the flanks, and in danger of an attack in the rear, 
placed all his baggage in front under the convoy of Knyphausen, 
while he threw the main strength of his army in the rear under 
Lord Cornwallis. This made it necessary for Washington to 
strengthen his advanced corps ; and he took this occasion to 
detach Lee, with Scott's and Varnum's brigades, to support the 
force under Lafayette. As Lee was the senior major-general, this 
gave him the command of the whole advance. Washington ex- 
plained the matter in a letter to the marquis, who resigned the 
command to Lee when the latter joined him on the 27th. That 
evening the enemy encamped on high ground near Monmouth 
Court-house. Lee encamped with the advance at Englishtown, 
about five miles distant. The main body was three miles in his 
rear. 

About sunset Washington rode forward and reconnoitered Sir 
Henry's position. It was protected by woods and morasses, and 
too strong to be attacked with a prospect of success. Should the 
enemy, however, proceed ten or twelve miles further unmolested, 
they would gain the heights of Middletown, and be on ground still 
more difficult. To prevent this, he resolved that an attack should 
be made on their rear early in the morning, as soon as their front 
should be in motion. This plan he communicated to General 
Lee, in presence of his officers, ordering him to make dispositions 
for the attack, keeping his troops lying on their arms, ready for 
action on the shortest notice. 

Early in the morning Washington received information that the 
enemy were in motion, and instantly sent orders to Lee to push 



344 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

forward and attack them, adding, that he was coming on to sup- 
port him. For that purpose he immediately set forward with his 
own troops, ordering them to throw by their knapsacks and 
blankets. 

Knyphausen, with the British vanguard, had begun about day- 
break to descend into the valley between Monmouth Court-house 
and Middletown. To give the long train of wagons and pack- 
horses time to get well on the way. Sir Henry Clinton with his 
choice troops remained in camp on the heights of Freehold until 
eight o'clock, when he likewise resumed the line of march toward 
Middletown. 

Meanwhile Lee had advanced with the brigades of Wayne and 
Maxwell, to support the light troops engaged in skirmishing. The 
difficulty of reconnoitering a country cut up by woods and mo- 
rassess, and the perplexity occasioned by contradictory reports, 
embarrassed his movements. Being joined by Lafayette with the 
main body of the advance, he had now more than four thousand 
men at his command. Arriving on the heights of Freehold, Lee 
caught sight of a force under march, but partly hidden from view 
by woods. Supposing it to be a covering party of about two thou- 
sand men, he detached Wayne with seven hundred men and two 
pieces of artillery, to skirmish in its rear and hold it in check ; 
while he, with the rest of his force, taking a shorter road through 
the woods, would get in front of it, and cut it off from the main 
body. 

Washington in the meantime was on his march to support the 
advance, as he had promised. The booming of cannon at a dis- 
tance indicated that the attack so much desired had commenced, 
and caused him to quicken his march. xA.rrived near Freehold 
church, where the road forked, he detached Greene with part of 
his forces to the right, to flank the enemy in the rear of Monmouth 
Court-house, while he, with the rest of the column, would press 
forward by the other road. 

Washington had alighted while giving these directions, and 
was standing with his arm thrown over his horse, when a country- 
man rode up and said the Continental troops were retreating. 



AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFFENSIVE. 345 

Washington was provoked at what he considered a false alarm. 
The man pointed, as his authority, to an American fifer who just 
then came up in breathless affright. The fifer was ordered into 
custody to prevent his spreading an alarm among the troops who 
were advancing, and was threatened with a flogging should he 
repeat the story. Springing on his horse, Washington had moved 
forward but a short distance when he met other fugitives, who 
concurred in the report. As he himself spurred past Freehold 
meeting-house, he met Grayson's and Patton's regiments in disor- 
derly retreat, jaded with heat and fatigue. Riding up to the 
officer at their head, Washington demanded whether the whole 
advanced corps were retreating. The officer believed they were. 

It seemed incredible. There had been scarce any firing — 
Washington had received no notice of the retreat from Lee. He 
was still inclined to doubt, when the heads of several columns of 
the advance began to appear. One of the first officers that came 
up was Colonel Shreve, at the head of his regiment ; Washington, 
greatly surprised and alarmed, asked the meaning of this retreat. 
The colonel smiled significantly — he did not know — he had 
retreated by order. There had been no fighting excepting a slight 
skirmish with the enemy's cavalry, which had been repulsed. 

A suspicion flashed across Washington's mind of wrong-headed 
conduct on the part of Lee, to mar the plan of the attack 
adopted contrary to his counsels. Ordering Colonel Shreve to 
march his men over the morass, halt them on the hill beyond and 
refresh them, he galloped forward to stop the retreat of the rest of 
the advance, his indignation kindling as he rode. At the rear of 
the regiment he met Major Howard ; he, too, could give no jeason 
for the retreat, but seemed provoked at it — declaring that he had 
never seen the like. Another officer exclaimed with an oath that 
they were flying from a shadow. 

Arriving at a rising ground, Washington beheld Lee approach- 
ing with the residue of his command in fufl retreat. By this time 
he was thoroughly exasperated. 

"What is the meaning of all this, sir?" demanded he, in the 
fiercest tone, as Lee rode up to him. 



346 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Lee for a moment was disconcerted, and hesitated in making a 
reply, for Washington's aspect, according to Lafayette, was terrible. 

" I desire to know the meaning of this disorder and confusion," 
was again demanded still more vehemently. 

Lee, stung by the manner more than the words of the demand, 
made an angry reply, and provoked still sharper expressions, 
which have been variously reported. He attempted a hurried ex- 
planation. His troops had been thrown into confusion by contra- 
dictory intelligence ; by disobedience of orders ; by the meddling 
and blundering of individuals ; and he had not felt disposed, he 
said, to beard the whole British army with troops in such a situa- 
tion. 

"I have certain information," rejoined Washington, "that it was 
merely a strong covering party." 

" That may be, but it was stronger than mine, and I did not 
tliink proper to run such a risk." 

" I am very sorry," replied Washington, "that you undertook 
the command, unless you meant to fight the enemy." 

" I did not think it prudent to bring on a general engagement." 

" Whatever your opinion may have been," replied Washington^ 
disdainfully, " I expected my orders would have been obeyed." ^\ 

This all passed rapidly, and, as it were, in flashes, for there was 
no time for parley. The enemy were within a quarter of an 
hour's march. Washington's appearance had stopped the retreat. 
The fortunes of the day were to be retrieved, if possible, by 
instant arrangements. These he proceeded to make with great 
celerity. The place was favorable for a stand ; it was a rising 
ground, to which the enemy could approach only over a narrow 
causeway. The rallied troops were hastily formed upon this 
eminence. Colonels Stewart and Ramsey, with two batteries, 
were stationed in a covert of woods on their left, to protect them 
and keep the enemy at bay. Colonel Oswald was posted for the 
same purpose on a height, with two field-pieces. The promptness 
with which everything was done showed the effects of the Baron 
Steuben's discipHne. 

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AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFFENSIVE. 347 

of the troops, replied that he could give no orders in the matter, 
as he supposed General Washington intended he should have no 
further command. Shortly after this, Washington, having made all 
his arrangements with great dispatch but admirable clearness and 
precision, rode back to Lee in calmer mood, and inquired, " Will 
you retain the command on this height or not? if you will, I will 
return to the main body, and have it formed on the next height." 

"It is equal to me where I command," rephed Lee. 

" I expect you will take proper means for checking the enemy," 
rejoined Washington. 

" Your orders shall be obeyed ; and I shall not be the first to 
leave the ground," was the reply. 

A warm cannonade by Oswald, Stewart, and Ramsey had the 
desired effect. The enemy were brought to a stand, and Wash- 
ington had time to gallop back and bring on the main body. This 
he formed on an eminence, with a wood in the rear and the 
morass in front. The left wing was commanded by Lord Stirling, 
who had with him a detachment of artillery and several field-pieces. 
Greene was on his right. The batteries under Lord Stirling opened 
a brisk and well-sustained fire upon the enemy ; who, finding them- 
selves warmly opposed in front, attempted to turn the left flank of 
the Americans, but were driven back by detached parties of infantry 
stationed there. They then attempted the right ; but here were met 
by Greene, who had planted his artillery under Knox, on a com- 
manding ground, and not only checked them but enfiladed those 
who were in front of the left wing. Wayne too, with an advanced 
party posted in an orchard, and partly sheltered by a barn, kept 
up a severe and well-directed fire upon the enemy's centre. 
Repeated attempts were made to dislodge him, but in vain. 
Colonel Monckton of the royal grenadiers, who had distinguished 
himself and been wounded in the battle of Long Island, now 
undertook to drive Wayne from his post at the point of the bayo- 
net. Wayne's men reserved their fire, until Monckton, waving his 
sword, called out to his grenadiers to charge. At that instant a 
sheeted volley laid him low, and made great slaughter in his 
column, which was again repulsed. 



348 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The enemy at length gave way, and fell back to the ground 
which Lee had occupied in the morning. Here their flanks were 
secured by woods and morasses, and their front could only be 
approached across a narrow causeway. Notwithstanding the diffi- 
culties of the position, Washington prepared to attack it ; but be- 
fore his orders could be carried into effect the day was at an end. 
Many of the soldiers had sunk upon the ground, overcome by 
fatigue and the heat of the weather ; all needed repose. The 
troops, therefore, which had been in the advance, were ordered to 
lie on their arms on the ground they occupied, so as to be ready 
to make the attack by daybreak. The main army did the same, 
on the field of action, to be at hand to support them. Washington 
lay on his cloak at the foot of a tree, with Lafayette beside him, 
talking over the strange conduct of Lee, whose disorderly retreat 
had come so near being fatal to the army. What opinions Wash- 
ington gave on the subject, in the course of his conversation with 
the marquis, the latter does not tell us ; after it was ended, he 
wrapped himself in his cloak, and slept at the foot of the tree, 
among his soldiers. 

At daybreak the drums beat the reveille. The troops roused them- 
selves from their heavy sleep, and prepared for action. To their 
surprise, the enemy had disappeared : there was a deserted camp, 
in which were found four officers and about forty privates, too 
severely wounded to be conveyed away by the retreating army. 
Sir Henry Clinton, it appeared, had allowed his wearied troops 
but short repose. At ten o'clock, when the American forces were 
buried in their first sleep, he had set forward to join the division 
under Knyphausen, which, with the baggage train, having pushed 
on during the action, was far on the road to Middletown. 

The distance to which the enemy must by this time have 
attained, the extreme heat of the weather, and the fatigued con- 
dition of the troops, deterred Washington from continuing a pur- 
suit through a country where the roads were deep and sandy, and 
there was great scarcity of water. Besides, persons well acquainted 
with the country assured him that it would be impossible to an- 
noy the enemy in their embarkation, as he must approach the 



AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFFENSIVE. 349 

place by a narrow passage, capable of being defended by a few 
men against his whole force. Detaching Maxwell's brigade and 
Morgan's rifle corps, therefore, to hang on the rear of the enemy, 
prevent depredation, and encourage desertions, he determined to 
shape his course with his main body by Brunswick toward the 
Hudson, lest Sir Henry should have any design upon the posts 
there. 

Chnton arrived at the Highlands of Navasink, in the neighbor- 
hood of Sandy Hook, on the 30th of June. He had lost many 
men by desertion, Hessians especially, during his march through 
the Jerseys, which, with his losses by killed, wounded, and cap- 
tured, had diminished his army more than two thousand men. 
The storms of the preceding winter had cut off the peninsula of 
Sandy Hook from the mainland, and formed a deep channel 
between them. Fortunately the squadron of Lord Howe had 
arrived the day before, and was at anchor within the Hook. A 
bridge was immediately made across the channel with the boats 
of the ships, over which the army passed to the Hook on the 5 th 
of July, and thence was distributed. 

It was now encamped in three divisions on Staten Island, Long 
Island, and the island of New York : apparently without any im- 
mediate design of offensive operations. There was a vigorous 
press in New York to man the large ships and fit them for sea, 
but this was in consequence of a report that a French fleet had 
arrived on the coast. 

Relieved by this intelligence from all apprehensions of an ex- 
pedition by the enemy up the Hudson, Washington relaxed the 
speed of his movements, and halted for a few days at Paramus, 
sparing his troops as much as possible during the extreme summer 
heats. 

On the day after the battle, Lee addressed a letter to Washing- 
ton, demanding an apology for his language on the battle-field. 
Washington replied that he believed his words to have been fully 
warranted by the circumstances, and added that as soon as practi- 
cable Lee's conduct should be laid before a court of inquiry. Lee 
returned an angry answer, to which Washington replied by putting 



350 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

him under arrest. A court-martial convicted him of disobedience 
of orders, of gross disrespect to the commander-in-chief, and of 
misbehavior before the enemy in making an unnecessary and dis- 
orderly retreat. Lee was accordingly suspended from command 
for one year, and after long discussion the sentence was approved 
by Congress. He retired to an estate which he happened to have 
acquired in Virginia, and there led a kind of hermit life, in com- 
pany with his dogs. He busied himself in writing scurrilous arti- 
cles about Washington, and his venomous tongue once involved 
him in a duel with one of Washington's aides, the high-minded 
Colonel Laurens. At length, having written an insulting letter to 
Congress, he was dismissed from the service. He led a lonely 
and wretched hfe till the autumn of 1782. His farm was mis- 
Aianaged ; his agents were unfaithful ; he entered into negotiations 
to dispose of his property, in the course of which he visited Phila- 
delphia. On arriving there, he was taken with chills, followed 
by a fever, which went on increasing in violence, and terminated 
fatally. In his dying moments he fancied himself on the field of 
battle. The last words he was heard to utter were, " Stand by me, 
my brave grenadiers ! " 

Eccentric to the last, one clause of his will regards his sepulture : 
" I desire most earnestly that I may not be buried in any church 
or churchyard, or within a mile of any Presbyterian or Anabaptist 
meeting-house ; for, since I have resided in this country, I have 
kept so much bad company while living, that I do not choose to 
continue it when dead." This part of his will was not compUed 
with. He was buried with military honors in the cemetery of 
Christ church ; and his funeral was attended by the highest civic 
and military characters, and a large concourse of citizens. 

The Rhode Island Expedition. — While encamped at Paramus, 
Washington received a letter from Congress informing him of the 
arrival of a French fleet on the coast ; instructing him to concert 
measures with the commander, the Count D'Estaing, for offensive 
operations by sea and land. 

The fleet in question was composed of twelve ships of the line 
and six frigates, with a land force of four thousand men. It had 



AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFEENSIVE. 351 

sailed from Toulon on the 13th of April, and, after struggling against 
adverse winds for eighty-seven days, it had anchored at the mouth 
of the Delaware, on the eighth of July. The count was unfortu- 
nate in the length of his voyage. Had he arrived in ordinary 
time, he might have entrapped Lord Howe's squadron in the 
river, co-operated with Washington in investing the British army 
by sea and land, and, by cutting off its retreat to New York, com- 
pelled it to surrender. Finding the enemy had evacuated both 
city and river, the count continued along the coast to New York. 
His first idea was to enter at Sandy Hook, and capture or destroy 
the British fleet composed of six ships of the hne, four fifty-gun 
ships, and a number of frigates and smaller vessels ; should he suc- 
ceed in this, which his gready superior force rendered probable, he 
was to proceed against the city, with the co-operation of the Amei^ 
ican forces. To be at hand for such purpose, Washington crossed 
the Hudson, with his army, at King's Ferry, and encamped at 
White Plains about the 20th of July. Several experienced Ameri- 
can pilots and shipmasters, however, declared there was not suffi- 
cient depth of water on the bar to admit the safe passage of the 
largest ships, one of which carried eighty and another ninety guns. 
The attempt, therefore, was reluctantly abandoned. 

The enterprise which the American and French commanders 
deemed next worthy of a combined operation, was the recapture 
of the island of Rhode Island, which the enemy had made one of 
their military depots and strongholds. In anticipation of such an 
enterprise, Washington on the 1 7th of July wrote to Sullivan, who 
commanded at Providence, ordering him to make the necessary 
preparations for a descent from the mainland upon the island, and 
authorizing him to call in reinforcements of New England militia. 
He also sent to his aid Lafayette and Greene. 

The island was garrisoned by six thousand men under command 
of Sir Robert Pigott, and the capture of so large a force would 
have been a most serious disaster to the British. But the expedi- 
tion failed through a complication of troubles. It began with 
ruinous delays, and a tremendous storm wrought great damage to 
D'Estaing's fleet, so that he did not feel equal to a contest with 



352 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the fleet of Lord Howe. He sailed away to Boston to refit. The 
yeomanry, disgusted at this seeming desertion of their alHes, dis- 
persed to their homes to gather in their harvest. Sulhvan's army, 
thus left in the lurch, found its situation on the island becoming 
dangerous, and, after a well-fought battle, in which the British 
were defeated, succeeded in effecting its retreat to the mainland 
without serious loss. The expedition was a complete failure, and 
only served to deepen the disgust with which many people re- 
garded the PYench alliance. 

Massacre at Wyoming. — While hostilities were carried on in 
the customary form along the Atlantic borders, Indian warfare, 
with all its atrocity, was going on in the interior. The British post 
at Niagara was its cradle. It was the common rallying place of 
Tories, refugees, savage warriors, and other desperadoes of the 
frontiers. Hither Brant, the noted Indian chief, had retired after 
the defeat of St. Leger at Fort Stanwix, to plan further mischief; 
and here was concerted the memorable incursion into the valley 
of Wyoming, suggested by Tory refugees, who had until recently 
inhabited it. 

The valley of Wyoming is a beautiful region lying along the 
Susquehanna. Peaceful as was its aspect, it had been the scene of 
sanguinary feuds prior to the Revolution, between the people of 
Pennsylvania and Connecticut, who both laid claim to it. Seven 
rural forts or block-houses, situated on various parts of the valley, 
had been strongholds during these territorial contests, and re- 
mained as places of refuge for women and children in times of 
Indian ravage. 

The expedition now set on foot against it, in June, was com- 
posed of Butler's rangers, Johnson's Royal Greens, and a large 
force of Senecas. Their united force, about eleven hundred 
strong, was conducted by Colonel John Butler, renowned in Indian 
warfare. Passing down the Chemung and Susquehanna in canoes, 
they landed at a place called Three Islands, struck through the 
wilderness to a mountain-gap, by which they entered the valley of 
Wyoming. Butler made his head-quarters at one of the strong- 
holds already mentioned, called Wintermoot Fort. Hence he 



AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFFENSIVE. 353 

sent out his marauding parties to plunder and lay waste the 
country. 

Rumors of this intended invasion had reached the valley some 
time before the appearance of the enemy, and had spread great 
consternation. Most of the sturdy yeomanry were absent in the 
army. A company of sixty men, enlisted under an act of Con- 
gress, and styling themselves regulars, took post at one of the 
strongholds called Forty Fort ; where they were joined by about 
three hundred of the yeomanry, armed and equipped in rustic 
style. In this emergency old men and boys volunteered to meet 
the common danger, posting themselves in the smaller forts in 
which women and children had taken refuge. Colonel Zebulon 
Butler, an officer of the Continental Army, took the general com- 
mand. Several officers arrived from the army, having obtained 
leave to repair home for the protection of their families. They 
brought word that a reinforcement, sent by Washington, was on 
its way. 

In the meantime John Butler's marauding parties were spread- 
ing desolation through the valley ; farm-houses were wrapped in 
flames ; husbandmen were murdered while at work in the fields ; 
all who had not taken refuge in the fort were threatened with 
destruction. What was to be done ? Wait for the arrival of the 
promised reinforcement, or attempt to check the ravage? The 
latter was rashly determined on. Leaving the women and chil- 
dren in Forty Fort, Colonel Zebulon Butler sallied forth on the 
3d of July, and made a rapid move upon Wintermoot Fort, 
hoping to come upon it by surprise. They found the enemy 
drawn up in front of it, in a line extending from the river to 
a marsh ; Colonel John Butler and his • rangers, with Johnson's 
Royal Greens, on the left ; Indians and Tories on the right. 
The Americans formed a line of the same extent ; the regulars 
under Zebulon Butler on the right flank, resting on the river, the 
militia under Colonel Denison on the left wing, on the marsh. A 
sharp fire was opened from right to left ; after a few volleys the 
enemy in front of Colonel Butler began to give way. The Indians, 
however, throwing themselves into the marsh, turned the left flank 



354 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of the Americans, and attacked the mihtia in the rear. Denison, 
finding himself exposed to a cross-fire, sought to^ change his 
position, and gave the word to fall back. It was mistaken for an 
order to retreat. In an instant the left wing turned and fled ; all 
attempts to rally it were vain; the panic extended to the right 
wing. The savages, throwing down their rifles, rushed on with 
tomahawk and scalping-knife, and a horrible massacre ensued. 
Some of the Americans escaped to Forty Fort, some swam the 
river ; others broke their way across the swamp, and climbed the 
mountain : some few were taken prisoners ; but the greater 
number were slaughtered. 

The desolation of the valley was now completed ; fields were 
laid waste, houses burnt, and their inhabitants murdered. Accord- 
ing to the British accounts, upwards of four hundred of the yeo- 
manry of Wyoming were slain, but the women and children were 
spared, " and desired to retire to their rebel friends." Upwards 
of five thousand persons fled in the utmost distress and conster- 
nation, seeking refuge in the settlements on the Lehigh and the 
Delaware. After completing this work of devastation, the enemy 
retired before the arrival of the troops detached by Washington. 

The British conquer Georgia. — About the middle of September 
Admiral Byron, who had succeeded to the naval command in place 
of Lord Howe, arrived at New York, and finding that D'Estaing 
was still repairing his shattered fleet in the harbor of 'Boston, he 
set sail for that port to entrap him. Success seemed hkely to 
crown his schemes : he arrived off Boston on the ist of November : 
his rival was still in port. Scarce had the admiral entered the bay, 
however, when a violent storm drove him out to sea, disabled his 
ships, and compelled him to put into Rhode Island to refit. 
Meanwhile the count, having his ships in good order, and finding 
the coast clear, put to sea, and made the best of his way for the 
West Indies. Previous to his departure he issued a proclamation 
dated the 28th of October, addressed to the French inhabitants of 
Canada, inviting them to resume allegiance to their former sover- 
eign. This was a measure in which he was not authorized by 
instructions from his government, and which was calculated to 



AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFFENSIVE. 355 

awaken a jealousy in the American mind as to the ultimate views 
of France in taking a part in this contest. It added to the chagrin 
occasioned by the failure of the expedition against Rhode Island, 
and the complete abandonment by the French of the coasts of the 
United States. 

The force at New York, which had been an object of watchful 
solicitude, was gradually dispersed in different directions. Imme- 
diately after the departure of Admiral Byron for Boston, another 
naval expedition had been set on foot by Sir Henry CHnton. A 
fleet of transports with five thousand men, under General Grant, 
convoyed by six ships-of-war, set sail on the 3d of November, with 
the secret design of an attack on St. Lucia. 

Towards the end of the same month, another body of troops, 
under Lieutenant-colonel Campbell, sailed for Georgia in the 
squadron of Commodore Hyde Parker, the British cabinet having 
determined to carry the war into the Southern States. At the 
same time General Prevost, who commanded in Florida, was 
ordered by Sir Henry Clinton to march to the banks of the 
Savannah river, and attack Georgia in flank, while the expedition 
under Campbell should attack it in front on the seaboard. 

The squadron of Hyde Parker anchored in the Savannah river 
towards the end of December. x\n American force of about six 
hundred regulars, and a few militia, under General Robert Howe, 
were encamped near the town, being the remnant of an army with 
which that officer had invaded Florida in the preceding summer, 
but had been obliged to evacuate it by a mortal malady which 
desolated his camp. 

Campbell landed his troops on the 29th of December, about 
three miles below the town. The whole country bordering the 
river is a deep morass, cut up by creeks, and only to be traversed 
by causeways. Over one of these, six hundred yards in length, 
with a ditch on each side. Colonel Campbell advanced, putting to 
flight a small party stationed to guard it. General Howe had 
posted his little army on the main road with the river on his left 
and a morass in front. A negro gave Campbell information of a 
path leading through the morass, by which troops might get unob- 



356 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

served to the rear of the Americans. Sir James Baird was detached 
with the Hght infantry by this path, while Colonel Campbell ad- 
vanced in front. The Americans, thus suddenly attacked in front 
and rear, were completely routed ; upwards of one hundred were 
either killed on the spot, or perished in the morass ; thirty-eight 
officers and four hundred and fifteen privates were taken prisoners, 
and the rest retreated up the Savannah river and crossed into 
South Carohna. Savannah, the capital of Georgia, was taken 
possession of by the victors, with cannon, military stores, and pro- 
visions ; their loss was only seven killed and nineteen wounded. 

Colonel Campbell conducted himself with great moderation ; 
protecting the persons and property of the inhabitants, and pro- 
claiming security and favor to all that should return to their alle- 
giance. Numbers in consequence flocked to the British standard ; 
the lower part of Georgia was considered as subdued, and posts 
were established by the British to maintain possession. 

While Campbell had thus invaded Georgia in front, Prevost 
attacked its southern frontier, took Sunbury, and marched to 
Savannah, where he assumed the general command, detaching 
Campbell against Augusta. By the middle of January (1779) all 
Georgia was reduced to submission. 

A more experienced American general than Howe had by this 
time arrived to take command of the Southern Department — • 
Major-general Lincoln, who had gained such reputation in the 
campaign against Burgoyne, and whose appointment to this sta- 
tion had been solicited by the delegates from South Carohna and 
Georgia. He had received his orders from Washington in the 
beginning of October. Of his operations at the South we shall 
have occasion to speak hereafter. 

Sullivan's Expedition against the Indians. — About the be- 
ginning of December, Washington distributed his troops for the 
winter in a line of strong cantonments, extending from Long Island 
Sound to the Delaware river. Putnam commanded at D anbury, 
and McDougall in the Highlands, while the head-quarters of the 
commander-in-chief were near Middlebrook in the Jerseys. The 
objects of this arrangement were the protection of the country, 



AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFFENSIVE. 357 

the security of the important posts on the Hudson, and the safety, 
disciphne, and easy subsistence of the army. 

In the course of the winter Washington devised a plan of alarm 
signals. On Bottle Hill, which commanded a vast map of country, 
sentinels kept watch day and night. Should there be an irruption 
of the enemy, an eighteen-pounder, called the Old Sow, fired every 
half- hour, gave the alarm in the daytime or in dark and stormy 
nights ; an immense fire or beacon at other times. On the boom- 
ing of that heavy gun, lights sprang up from hill to hill along the 
different ranges of heights ; the country was aroused, and the 
yeomanry, hastily armed, hurried to their gathering-places. 

Much of the winter was passed by Washington in Philadelphia, 
occupied in devising and discussing plans for the campaign of 
1779. It was an anxious moment with him. Circumstances which 
inspired others with confidence filled him with solicitude. The 
alliance with France had produced a baneful feeling of security, 
which was paralyzing the energies of the country. England, it 
was thought, would now be too much occupied in securing her 
position in Europe, to increase her force or extend her operations 
in America. Many, therefore, considered the war as virtually at 
an end, and were unwilling to make the sacrifices, or supply the 
means necessary for important mihtary undertakings. Dissen- 
sions, too, and party feuds were breaking out in Congress, owing 
to the relaxation of that external pressure of a common and 
imminent danger, which had heretofore produced a unity of senti- 
ment and action. That august body had greatly deteriorated since 
the commencement of the war. Many whose names had been 
as watchwords at the Declaration of Independence, had with- 
drawn from the national councils, occupied either by their indi- 
vidual affairs, or by the affairs of their individual states. Washing- 
ton, whose comprehensive patriotism embraced the whole Union, 
deprecated and deplored the dawning of this sectional spirit. 
America, he declared, had never stood in more imminent need 
of the wise, patriotic, and spirited exertions of her sons than at 
this period. 

Jn discussing the policy to be obser\ed in the next campaign, 



358 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Washington presumed the enemy would maintain their present 
posts, and conduct the war as heretofore ; in which case he was 
for remaining entirely on the defensive, with the exception of such 
minor operations as might be necessary to check the ravages of 
the Indians. The country, he observed, was in a languid and ex- 
hausted state, and had need of repose. The interruption to agri- 
cultural pursuits, and the many hands abstracted from husbandry 
by military service, had produced a scarcity of bread and forage, 
and rendered it difficult to subsist large armies. Neither was it 
easy to recruit these armies. There was abundance of employ- 
ment ; wages were high, the value of money was low ; conse- 
quently there was but little temptation to enlist. Plans had been 
adopted to remedy the deranged state of the currency, but they 
would be slow in operation. Great economy must in the mean- 
time be observed in the public expenditure. 

The participation of France in the war, also, and the prospect 
that Spain would soon be embroiled with England, must certainly 
divide the attention of the enemy, and allow America a breathing 
time ; these and similar considerations were urged by Washington 
in favor of a defensive policy. One single exception was made 
by him. The horrible ravages perpetrated by the Indians and 
their Tory allies at Wyoming had been followed by similar atroci- 
ties at Cherry Valley, in the state of New York, and called for 
signal vengeance to prevent a repetition. Washington knew by 
experience that Indian warfare, to be effective, should never be 
merely defensive, but must be carried into the enemy's country. 
The Six Nations, the most civilized of the savage tribes, had 
proved themselves the most formidable. His idea was to make 
war upon them in their own style ; penetrate their country, lay 
waste their villages and settlements, and at the same time de- 
stroy the British post at Niagara, that nestling-place of Tories 
and refugees. 

The policy thus recommended was adopted by Congress. An 
expedition was set on foot in revenge of the massacre of Wyo- 
ming. Early in the summer, three thousand men assembled 
in that lately desolated region, and, conducted by General Sulli- 



AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFFENSIVE. 359 

van, moved up the west branch of the Susquehanna into the 
Seneca country. While on the way, they were joined by a part 
of the western army, under General James Clinton, who had come 
from the valley of the Mohawk by Otsego Lake and the east 
branch of the Susquehanna. The united forces amounted to 
about five thousand men, of which Sullivan had the general 
command. 

The Indians, and their alHes the Tories, had received informa- 
tion of the intended invasion, and appeared in arms to oppose it. 
They were much inferior in force, however, being about fifteen 
hundred Indians and two hundred white men, commanded by the 
two Butlers, Johnson, and Brant. A battle took place at Newtown 
on the 29th of August, in which they were easily defeated. Sulli- 
van then pushed forward into the heart of the Indian country, 
penetrating as far as the Genesee river, laying everything waste, 
setting fire to deserted dwellings, destroying cornfields, orchards, 
gardens, everything that could give sustenance to man, the design 
being to starve the Indians out of the country. The latter re- 
treated before him with their families, and at length took refuge 
under the protection of the British garrison at Niagara. Having 
completed his errand, Sullivan returned to Easton in Pennsylvania. 
The thanks of Congress were voted to him and his army, but he 
shortly resigned his commission on account of ill health, and 
retired from the service. 

A similar expedition was undertaken by Colonel Brodhead, 
from Pittsburg up the Alleghany, against the Mingo, and Seneca 
tribes, with similar results. The wisdom of Washington's policy 
of carrying the war against the Indians into their country, and 
conducting it in their own way, was apparent from the general 
intimidation produced among the tribes by these expeditions, and 
the subsequent infrequency of their murderous incursions, the 
instigation of which by the British had been the most inhuman 
feature of this war. 

Stony Point. — The situation of Sir Henry Clinton must have 
been mortifying in the extreme to an officer of lofty ambition and 
generous aims. His force, between sixteen and seventeen thousand 



360 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

strong, was superior in number, discipline, and equipment to that 
of Washington ; yet his instructions confined him to a predatory 
warfare, carried on by attacks and marauds at distant points, irri- 
tating to the country intended to be conciUated, and brutahzing to 
his own soldiery. Such was the nature of an expedition against 
the commerce of the Chesapeake. On the 9th of May, a squadron 
under Sir George Collier, convoying twenty-five hundred men, 
commanded by General Matthews, entered these waters, took 
possession of Portsmouth without opposition, sent out armed 
parties against Norfolk, Suffolk, Gosport, Kemp's Landing, and 
other neighboring places, where were immense quantities of pro- 
visions, naval and military stores, and merchandise of all kinds ; 
with numerous vessels, some on the stocks, others richly laden. 
Wherever they went, a scene of plunder, conflagration, and de- 
struction ensued. A few days sufficed to ravage the whole neigh- 
borhood. 

While this was going on at the South, Washington received 
intelligence of movements about New York, which made him 
apprehend an expedition against the Highlands of the Hudson. 
Since the loss of Forts Montgomery and Clinton, the main defences 
of the Highlands had been established at the sudden bend of the 
river where it winds between West Point and Constitution Island. 
Two opposite forts commanded this bend, and an iron chain 
which was stretched across it. Washington had projected two 
works also just below the Highlands, at Stony Point and Verplanck's 
Point, to serve as outworks of the mountain passes, and to protect 
King's Ferry, the most direct and convenient communication 
between the Northern and Middle States. A small but strong fort 
had been erected on Verplanck's Point, and was garrisoned by 
seventy men under Captain Armstrong. A more important work 
was in progress at Stony Point. When completed, these two forts, 
on opposite promontories, would form as it were the lower gates 
of the Highlands ; miniature Pillars of Hercules, of which Stony 
Point was the Gibraltar. 

To be at hand in case of any real attempt upon the Highlands, 
Washington drew up with his forces in that direction ; moving by 



AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFFENSIVE, 



361 



the way of Morristown. An expedition up the Hudson was really 
the object of Sir Henry Clinton's movements, and for this he was 
strengthened by the return of Collier from Virginia. On the 30th 
of May Sir Henry set out on his second grand crmse up the Hud- 
son with an armament of about seventy sail, great and small, and 
one hundred and fifty flat-boats. Admiral Sir George Colher com- 
manded the armament, and there was a land force of about five 
thousand men under General Vaughan. 

The first aim of Sir Henry was to get possession of Stony and 
Verplanck's Points; his former expedition had acquamted him 
with the importance of this pass of the river. On the morning of 
the 31st the forces were landed in two divisions, the largest under 
General Vaughan, on the east side of the river, about seven or 
ei-ht miles below Verplanck's Point; the other, commanded by 
Sir Henry in person, landed in Haverstraw Bay, about three miles 
below Stony Point. There were but about thirty men in the 
unfinished fort ; they abandoned it on the approach of the enemy, 
and retreated into the Highlands, having first set fire to the block- 
house The British took quiet possession of the fort m the even- 
ing • dragged up cannon and mortars in the night, and at day- 
break opened a furious fire upon Fort Lafayette. It was cannon- 
aded at the same time by the armed vessels, and a demonstration 
was made on it by the division under General Vaughan. Thus 
surrounded, the little garrison of seventy men was forced to sur- 
render with no other stipulation than safety to their persons and 
to the property they had in the fort. Major Andr6 was aide- 
de-camp to Sir Henry, and signed the articles of capitulation. 

Sir Henry Clinton stationed garrisons in both posts, and set to 
work with great activity to complete the fortification of Stony 
Point His troops remained for several days in two divisions on 
the opposite sides of the river; the fleet generally fell down a 
little below King's Ferry ; some of the square-rigged vessels how- 
ever, with others of a smaller size, and flat-bottomed boats, havmg 
troops on board, dropped down Haverstraw Bay, and finally disap^ 
peared behind the promontories which advance across the upper 
part of the Tappan Sea. 



362 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Some of the movements of the enemy perplexed Washington 
exceedingly. He presumed, however, that the main object of Sir 
Henry was to get possession of West Point, the guardian fortress 
of the river, and that the capture of Stony and Verplanck's Points 
were preparatory steps. He would fain have dislodged him from 
these posts, which cut off all communication by the way of King's 
Ferry, but they were too strong ; he had not the force or military 
apparatus necessary. Deferring any attempt on them for the pres- 
ent, he took measures for the protection of West Point. Leaving 
General Putnam and the main body of the army at Smith's Clove, 
a mountain pass in the rear of Haverstraw, he removed his head- 
quarters to New Windsor, to be near West Point in case of need, 
and to press the completion of its works. General McDougall 
was transferred to the command of the Point. Three brigades 
were stationed at different places on the opposite side of the 
river, under General Heath, from which fatigue parties crossed 
daily to work on the fortifications. 

This strong disposition of the American forces checked Sir 
Henry's designs against the Highlands. Contenting himself, there- 
fore, for the present, with the acquisition of Stony and Verplanck's 
Points, he returned to New York, where he soon set on foot a 
desolating expedition along the seaboard of Connecticut. That 
state, while it furnished the American armies with provisions and 
recruits, and infested the sea with privateers, had hitherto experi- 
enced nothing of the horrors of war within its borders. Sir Henry, 
in compliance with his instructions from government, was now 
about to give it a scourging lesson ; and he entertained the hope 
that, in so doing, he might draw down Washington from his 
mountain fastnesses, and lay open the Hudson to a successful 
incursion. 

General (late governor) Tryon was the officer selected by Sir 
Henry for this inglorious service. About the beginning of July he 
embarked with two thousand six hundred men in a fleet of trans- 
ports and tenders, and was convoyed up the Sound by Sir George 
Collier with two ships-of-war. On the 5 th of July, the troops 
landed near New Haven. They came upon the neighborhood by 



AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFFENSIVE. 363 

surprise, captured the town, dismantled the fort, and took or 
destroyed all the vessels in the harbor; with all the artillery, 
ammunition, and public stores. Several private houses were plun- 
dered ; but this, it was said, was done by the soldiery contrary to 
orders. The enemy, in fact, claimed great credit for lenity in 
refraining from universal pillage. 

They next proceeded to Fairfield ; where, meeting with greater 
resistance, they thought the moment arrived for a wholesome 
example of severity. Accordingly, they not merely ravaged and 
destroyed the public stores and the vessels in the harbor, but laid 
the town itself in ashes. The exact return of this salutary lesson 
gives the destruction of ninety-seven dwelling-houses, sixty-seven 
barns and stables, forty-eight store-houses, three places of worship, 
a court-house, a jail, and two school-houses. The sight of their 
homes laid desolate, and their dwellings wrapped in flames, only 
served to exasperate the inhabitants, and produce a more deter- 
mined opposition to the progress of the destroyers ; whereupon 
the ruthless ravages of the latter increased as they advanced. At 
Norwalk, where they landed on the nth of July, they committed 
similar acts of devastation, accompanied by atrocities inevitable 
where the brutal passions of a soldiery are aroused. 

It was intended to crown this grand ravage by a descent on New 
London, a noted rendezvous of privateers ; but as greater opposi- 
tion was expected here than at either of the other places, the 
squadron returned to Huntington Bay, on Long Island, to await 
reinforcements ; and Admiral Colher proceeded to Throg's Neck, 
to confer with Sir Henry CHnton about further operations. In 
this conference Sir Henry was assured that the recent expedi- 
tion was producing the most salutary effects ; that the principal 
inhabitants were incensed at the apathy of Washington in re- 
maining encamped near the Hudson, while their country was 
ravaged and their homes laid in ashes; that they complained 
equally of Congress, and talked of withdrawing from it their 
allegiance, and making terms with the British commanders for 
themselves ; finally, it was urged that the proposed expedition 
against New London would carry these salutary effects still fiirtlicr, 



364 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and confirm the inhabitants in the sentiments they were beginning 
to express. 

Washington, however, was not culpable of the apathy ascribed 
to him. He could not prudently diminish the force stationed for 
the protection of the Highlands. Any weakening of his posts 
there might bring the enemy suddenly upon him, such was their 
facility in moving from one place to another by means of their 
shipping. Indeed, he had divined that a scheme of the kind was 
at the bottom of the hostile movement to the eastward, and as a 
counter-check to Sir Henry, he had for some days been planning 
the recapture of Stony Point and Fort Lafayette. He had recon- 
noitered them in person ; spies had been thrown into them, and 
information collected from deserters. Stony Point having been 
recently strengthened by the British, was now the most important. 
It was a rocky promontory advancing far into the Hudson, which 
washed three sides of it. A deep morass, covered at high water, 
separated it from the mainland, but at low tide might be traversed 
by a narrow causeway and bridge. The promontory was crowned 
by strong works, furnished with heavy ordnance, commanding the 
morass and causeway. Lower down were two rows of abatis, and 
the shore at the foot of the hill could be swept by vessels of war 
anchored in the river. The garrison was about six hundred strong, 
commanded by Lieutenant-colonel Johnson. 

To attempt the surprisal of this isolated post, thus strongly forti- 
fied, was a perilous enterprise. General Wayne, Mad Anthony 
as he was called from his daring valor, was the officer to whom 
Washington proposed it, and he engaged in it with avidity. 
According to Washington's plan, it was to be attempted by light 
infantry only, at night, and with the utmost secrecy, securing every 
person they met to prevent discovery. Between one and two 
hundred chosen men and officers were to make the surprise ; pre- 
ceded by a vanguard of prudent, determined men, well commanded, 
to remove obstructions, secure sentries, and drive in the guards. 
The whole were to advance with fixed bayonets and unloaded 
muskets ; all was to be done with the bayonet. These parties were 
to be followed by the main body, at a small distance, to support 



AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFFENSIVE. 365 

and reinforce them, or to bring them off in case of failure. All 
were to wear white cockades or feathers, and to have a watchword, 
so as to be distinguished from the enemy. " The usual time for 
exploits of this kind," observes Washington, " is a little before day, 
for which reason a vigilant officer is then more on the watch. I 
therefore recommend a midnight hour." 

On getting possession of Stony Point, Wayne was to turn its 
guns upon Fort Lafayette and the shipping. A detachment was 
to march down from West Point by Peekskill, to the vicinity of 
Fort Lafayette, and hold itself ready to join in the attack upon it, 
as soon as the cannonade began from Stony Point. 

On the 15th of July, about mid-day, Wayne set out with his 
light infantry from Sandy Beach, fourteen miles distant from Stony 
Point. The roads were rugged, across mountains, morasses, and 
narrow defiles, in the skirts of the Dunderberg, where frequently 
it was necessary to proceed in single file. About eight in the 
evening, they arrived within a mile and a half of the forts, with- 
out being discovered. Not a dog barked to give the alarm — all 
the dogs in the neighborhood had been privately destroyed before- 
hand. Bringing the men to a halt, Wayne and his principal offi- 
cers went nearer, and carefully reconnoitered the works and their 
environs, so as to proceed understandingly and without confusion. 
Having made their observations they returned to the troops. 
About half-past eleven, the whole moved forward, guided by a 
negro of the neighborhood, who had frequently carried in fruit to 
the garrison, and served the Americans as a spy. He led the way, 
accompanied by two stout men disguised as farmers. The coun- 
tersign was given to the first sentinel, posted on high ground west 
of the morass. While the negro talked with him, the men seized 
and gagged him. The sentinel posted at the head of the cause- 
way was served in the same manner ; so that hitherto no alarm 
was given. The causeway, however, was overflowed, and it was 
some time after twelve o'clock before the troops could cross ; 
leaving three hundred men under General Muhlenberg, on the 
western side of the morass, as a reserve. 

At the foot of the promontory, the troops were divided into two 



366 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

columns, for simultaneous attacks on opposite sides of the works. 
One hundred and fifty volunteers led by Lieutenant-colonel Fleury, 
seconded by Major Posey, formed the vanguard of the right 
column. One hundred volunteers under Major Stewart, the van- 
guard of the left. In advance of each was a forlorn hope of twenty 
men, one led by Lieutenant Gibbon, the other by Lieutenant Knox ; 
it was their desperate duty to remove the abatis. So well had the 
whole affair been conducted, that the Americans were close upon 
the outworks before they were discovered. There was then severe 
skirmishing at the pickets. The Americans used the bayonet ; the 
others discharged their muskets. The reports roused the garrison. 
Stony Point was instantly in an uproar. The drums beat to arms ; 
every one hurried to his alarm post ; the works were hastily manned, 
and a tremendous fire of grape-shot and musketry opened upon 
the assailants. 

The two columns forced their way with the bayonet, at opposite 
points, surmounting every obstacle. Colonel Fleury was the first 
to enter the fort and strike the British flag. Major Posey sprang 
to the ramparts and shouted, " The fort is our own." Wayne, who 
led the right column, received at the inner abatis a contusion on 
the head from a musket-ball, and would have fallen to the ground, 
but his two aides-de-camp supported him. Thinking it was a 
death wound, " Carry me into the fort," said he, " and let me die 
at the head of my column." He was borne in between his aides, 
and soon recovered his self-possession. The two columns arrived 
nearly at the same time, and met in the centre of the works. The 
garrison surrendered at discretion. 

At daybreak, as Washington directed, the guns of the fort were 
turned on Fort Lafayette and the shipping. The latter cut their 
cables and dropped down the river. Through a series of blunders, 
the detachment from West Point, which was to have co-operated, 
did not arrive in time, and came unprovided with suitable ammu- 
nition for their battering artillery. This part of the enterprise, 
therefore, failed ; Fort Lafayette held out. 

The storming of Stony Point stands out in high relief, as one of 
the most brilliant achievements of the war. The Americans had 



AMERICANS ASSUME THE OFFENSIVE. o61 

effected it without firing a musket. On their part, it was the silent, 
deadly work of the bayonet ; the fierce resistance they met at the 
outset may be judged by the havoc made in their forlorn hope ; out 
of twenty-two men, seventeen were either killed or wounded. The 
whole loss of the Americans was fifteen killed and eighty-three 
wounded. Of the garrison, sixty-three were slain, including two 
officers ; five hundred and fifty- three were taken prisoners, among 
whom were a lieutenant-colonel, four captains, and twenty-three 
subaltern officers. 

Tidings of the capture of Stony Point, and the imminent danger 
of Fort Lafayette, reached Sir Henry Clinton just after his confer- 
ence with Sir George Collier at Throg's Neck. The expedition 
against New London was instantly given up ; the transports and 
troops were recalled ; a forced march was made to Dobbs' Ferry 
on the Hudson ; a detachment was sent up the river in transports 
to relieve Fort Lafayette, and Sir Henry followed with a greater 
force, hoping Washington might quit his fastnesses, and risk a 
battle for the possession of Stony Point. 

Again the Fabian policy of the American commander-in-chief 
disappointed the British general. Having well examined the post 
in company with an engineer and several general officers, he found 
that at least fifteen hundred men would be required to maintain it, 
a number not to be spared from the army at present. The works, 
too, were only calculated for defence on the land side, and were 
open towards the river, where the enemy depended upon protec- 
tion from their ships. It would be necessary to construct them 
anew, with great labor. The army, also, would have to be in the 
vicinity, too distant from West Point to aid in completing or de- 
fending its fortifications, and exposed to the risk of a general 
action on unfavorable terms. For these considerations, in which 
all his officers concurred, Washington evacuated the post on the 
1 8th, removing the cannon and stores, and destroying the works; 
after which he drew his forces together in the Highlands, and 
established his quarters at West Point, not knowing but Sir 
Henry might attempt a retahatory stroke on that most important 
fortress. The latter retook possession of Stony Point, and fortified 



368 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and garrisoned it more strongly than ever, but was too wary to risk 
an attempt upon the strongholds of the Highlands. Finding 
Washington was not to be tempted out of them, he ordered the 
transports to fall once more down the river, and returned to his 
former encampment at Philipsburg. 

§ 9. The Disasters of 1780. 

The War transferred to the South. — The arrival of Admiral 
Arbuthnot, with a fleet, bringing three thousand troops and a 
supply of provisions and stores, strengthened the hands of Sir 
Henry Clinton. Still he had not sufficient force to warrant any 
further attempt up the Hudson ; Washington, by his diligence in 
fortifying West Point, having rendered that fastness of the High- 
lands apparently impregnable. Sir Henry turned his thoughts, 
therefore, towards the South, hoping, by a successful expedition in 
that direction, to counterbalance ill success in other quarters. As 
this would require large detachments, he threw up additional 
works on New York Island and at Brooklyn, to render his position 
secure with the diminished force that would remain with him. 

At this juncture news was received of the arrival of the Count 
D'Estaing, with a formidable fleet on the coast of Georgia, having 
made a successful cruise in the West Indies, in the course of which 
he had taken St. Vincent's and Grenada. A combined attack upon 
New York was again talked of. In anticipation of it, W^ashing- 
ton called upon several of the Middle States for supplies of all 
kinds, and reinforcements of militia. Sir Henry Clinton, also, 
changed his plans ; caused Rhode Island to be evacuated ; the 
troops and stores to be brought away ; the garrisons brought off 
from Stony and Verplanck's Points, and all his forces to be con- 
centrated at New York, which he endeavored to put in the strong- 
est posture of defence. 

Intelligence recently received, too, that Spain had joined France 
in hostilities against Endand, contributed to increase the solicitude 
and perplexities of the enemy, while it gave fresh confidence to 
the Americans. 

Washington's anticipations of a combined operation with 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 369 

D'Estaing against New York were again disappointed. The 
Frencli admiral, on arriving on the coast of Georgia, had been 
persuaded to co-operate with -the Southern army, under General 
Lincoln, in an attempt to recover Savannah. For three weeks a 
siege was carried on with great vigor, by regular approaches on 
land, and cannonade and bombardment from the shipping. On 
the 9th of October, although the approaches were not complete, 
and no sufficient breach had been effected, Lincoln and D'Estaing, 
at the head of their choicest troops, advanced before daybreak to 
storm the works. The assault was gallant but unsuccessful ; both 
Americans and French had planted their standards on the redoubts, 
but were finally repulsed. After the repulse, both armies retired 
from before the place, the French having lost in killed and wounded 
upwards of six hundred men, the Americans about four hundred. 
D'Estaing himself was among the wounded, and the gallant Count 
Pulaski among the slain. The loss of the enemy was trifling, as 
they were protected by their works. The Americans recrossed 
the Savannah river into South Carolina; the militia returned to 
their homes, and the French re-embarked. 

The tidings of this reverse, which reached Washington late in 
November, put an end to all prospect of co-operation from the 
French fleet ; a consequent change took place in all his plans. 
The militia of New York and Massachusetts, recently assembled, 
were disbanded, and arrangements were made for the winter. The 
army was thrown into two divisions ; one was to be stationed 
under General Heath in the Highlands, for the protection of West 
Point and the neighboring posts ; the other and principal division 
was to be hutted near Morristown, where Washington was to have 
his head-quarters. The cavalry were to be sent to Connecticut. 

Understanding that Sir Henry Clinton was making preparations 
at New York for a large embarkation of troops, and fearing they 
might be destined against Georgia and Carolina, he resolved to 
detach the greater part of his Southern troops for the protection 
of those states ; a provident resolution, in which he was confirmed 
by subsequent instructions from Congress. Accordingly, the North 
Carolina brigade took up its march for Charleston in November, 
and the whole of the Virginia line in December, 



370 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Notwithstanding the recent preparations at New York, the ships 
remained in port, and the enemy held themselves in collected 
force there. Doubts began to be entertained of some furtive 
design nearer at hand, and measures were taken to protect the 
army against an attack when in winter- quarters. Sir Henry, how- 
ever, was regulating his movements by those the French fleet 
might make after the repulse at Savannah. Intelligence at length 
arrived that it had been dispersed by a violent storm. Count 
D'Estaing, with a part, had shaped his course for France ; the 
rest had proceeded to the West Indies. 

Sir Henry now lost no time in carrying his plans into operation. 
Leaving the garrison of New York under the command of Lieu- 
tenant-general Knyphausen, he embarked several thousand men, 
on board of transports, to be convoyed by five ships of the line 
and several frigates under Admiral Arbuthnot, and set sail on the 
26th of December, accompanied by Lord Cornwallis, on an expe- 
dition intended for the capture of Charleston and the reduction of 
South Carolina. 

Arnold at Philadelphia. — ■ The dreary encampment at Valley 
Forge has become proverbial for its hardships ; yet they were 
scarcely more severe than those suffered by Washington's army 
during the present winter, while hutted among the heights of 
Morristown. The winter set in early, and was uncommonly rigor- 
ous. The transportation of supplies was obstructed ; the maga- 
zines were exhausted, and the commissaries had neither money 
nor credit to enable them to replenish them. For weeks at a time 
the army was on half allowance ; sometimes without meat, some- 
times without bread, sometimes without both. There was a scar- 
city, too, of clothing and blankets, so that the poor soldiers were 
starving with cold as well as hunger. 

While the rigorous winter had much to do with the actual dis- 
tresses of the army, the root of the evil lay in the derangement of 
the currency. Congress had commenced the war without ade- 
quate funds, and without the power of imposing direct taxes. 
To meet pressing emergencies, it had emitted paper money, 
which, for a time, passed current at par; but sank in value as 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 371 

further emissions succeeded, and that already in circulation 
remained unredeemed. The several states added to the evil by 
emitting paper in their separate capacities : thus the country grad- 
ually became flooded with a " Continental currency," as it was 
called ; irredeemable, and of no intrinsic value. The conse- 
quence was a general derangement of trade and finance. The 
Continental currency declined to such a degree, that forty dollars 
in paper were equivalent to only one in specie. Congress at- 
tempted to put a stop to this depreciation, by making paper money 
a legal tender, at its nominal value, in the discharge of debts, how- 
ever contracted. This opened the door to knavery, and added a 
new feature to the evil. 

The commissaries now found it difficult to purchase supplies for 
the immediate wants of the army, and impossible to provide any 
stores in advance. They were left destitute of funds, and the 
public credit was prostrated by the accumulating debts suffered to 
remain uncancelled. In the present emergency Washington was 
reluctantly compelled to call upon the counties of New Jersey for 
suppHes of grain and cattle, proportioned to their respective abili- 
ties. These supplies were to be brought into the camp within a 
certain time ; the grain to be measured and the catde estimated 
by any two of the magistrates of the county in conjunction with the 
commissary, and certificates to be given by the latter, specifying 
the quantity of each and the terms of payment. Wherever a com- 
pliance with this call was refused, the articles required were to be 
impressed : it was a painful alternative, yet nothing else could save 
the army from dissolution or starving. Washington charged his 
officers to act with as much tenderness as possible, graduating the 
exaction according to the stock of each individual, so that no 
family should be deprived of what was necessary to its subsis- 
tence. 

To the honor of the magistrates and people of New Jersey, 
Washington testifies that his requisitions were punctually complied 
with, and in many counties exceeded. Too much praise cannot 
be given to the people of this state for the patience with which 
most of them bore these exactions, and the patriotism with which 



372 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

many of them administered to the wants of their countrymen in 
arms. Exhausted as the state was by repeated drainings, yet, at 
one time, when deep snows cut off all distant supplies, Washing- 
ton's army was wholly subsisted by it. 

As the winter advanced the cold increased in severity. It was 
the most intense ever remembered in the country. The great bay 
of New York was frozen over. No supplies could come to the 
city by water. Provisions grew scanty ; and there was such lack 
of fire-wood that old transports were broken up, and uninhabited 
wooden houses pulled down for fuel. The safety of the city was 
endangered. The ships of war, immovably ice-bound in its har- 
bor, no longer gave it protection. The insular security of the 
place was at an end. An army with its heaviest artillery and bag- 
gage might cross the Hudson on the ice. The veteran Kny- 
phausen began to apprehend an invasion, and took measures 
accordingly. 

Washington was aware of the opportunity which offered itself for 
a signal coup de main, but was not in a condition to profit by it. 
His troops were half fed, half clothed, and inferior in number to 
the garrison of New York. He was destitute of funds necessary 
to fit them for the enterprise, and the quartermaster could not 
furnish means of transportation. 

The most irksome duty that Washington had to perform during 
this winter's encampment at Morristown regarded General Arnold 
and his military government of Philadelphia in 1778. To explain 
it requires a glance back to that period. 

At the time of entering upon this command, Arnold's accounts 
with government were yet unsettled, the committee appointed by 
Congress, at his own request, to examine them, having considered 
some of his charges dubious and others exorbitant. Washington, 
however, still looked upon him with favor, and, but a month pre- 
viously, had presented him with a pair of epaulettes and a sword- 
knot, "as a testimony of his sincere regard and approbation." 

The command of Philadelphia, at this time, was a delicate and 
difficult one, and required to be exercised with extreme circum- 
spection. The boundaries between the powers vested in the 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 373 

military commander and those inherent in the state government 
were ill-defined. Disaffection to the American cause prevailed 
both among the permanent and casual residents, and required to 
be held in check with firmness but toleration. By a resolve of 
Congress, no goods, wares, or merchandise were to be removed, 
transferred, or sold, until the ownership of them could be ascer- 
tained by a joint committee of Congress and of the Council of 
Pennsylvania ; any public stores belonging to the enemy were to 
be seized and converted to the use of the army. 

One of Arnold's first measures was to issue a proclamation 
enforcing the resolve of Congress. In so doing, he was counte- 
nanced by leading personages of Philadelphia, and the proclamation 
was drafted by General Joseph Reed. The measure excited great 
dissatisfaction, and circumstances attending the enforcement of it 
gave rise to scandal. Former instances of a mercenary spirit made 
Arnold liable to suspicions, and it was alleged that, while by the 
proclamation he shut up the stores and shops so that even the 
officers of the army could not procure necessary articles of mer- 
chandise, he was privately making large purchases for his own 
enrichment. 

His style of living gave point to this scandal. He occupied one 
of the finest houses in the city; gave expensive entertainments, 
and indulged in a luxury and parade which were condemned as 
little befitting a republican general. In the exercise of his military 
functions, he had become involved in disputes with the executive 
council of Pennsylvania. 

He had not been many weeks in Philadelphia before he became 
attached to one of its reigning belles. Miss Margaret Shippen, 
daughter of Mr. Edward Shippen, in after years chief justice of 
Pennsylvania. Her family were not considered well affected to 
the American cause. Arnold paid her his addresses in an open 
and honorable style, first obtaining by letter the sanction of the 
father. Party feeling at that time ran high in Philadelphia. 
Arnold's connection with the Shippen family increased his disfavor 
with the president and council, who were Whigs to a man ; and 
it was sneeringly observed, that "he had courted the loyalists from 
the start." 



374 LIFE OF WASHIXGTON. 

In the beginning of December, General Reed became president 
of the executive council of Pennsylvania, and under his adminis- 
tration tlie ripening hostility to Arnold was brought to a crisis. 
Among the various schemes of the latter for bettering his fortunes, 
and securing the means of li\ing when the war should come to an 
end, was one for forming a settlement in the western part of the 
state of New York, to be composed, principally, of the officers 
and soldiers who had served under him. His scheme was ap- 
proved by John Jay, at that time president of Congress, and was 
sanctioned by the New York delegation. Provided with letters 
from them, Arnold left Philadelphia about the ist of January (i 779) 
and set out for Albany to obtain a grant of land for the purpose, 
from the New York Legislature. 

Within a day or two after his departure, his public conduct was 
discussed in the executive council of Pennsylvania, and it was 
resolved unanimously, that the course of his military command in 
the city had been in many respects oppressive, and disrespectful to 
the supreme executive authority of the state. As he was an officer 
of the United States, the complaints and grievances of Pennsyl- 
vania were set forth by the executive council in eight charges, and 
forwarded to Congress, accompanied by documents, and a letter 
from President Reed. 

Information of these focts, with a printed copy of the charges, 
reached Arnold at A\\ishington's camp on the Raritan, which he had 
visited while on the way to Albany. His first solicitude was about 
the effect they might have upon Miss Shippen, to whom he was 
now engaged. In a letter dated February 8, he entreated her 
not to suffer these rude attacks on him to give her a moment's 
uneasiness — they could do him no injury. 

On the following day he issued an address to the public, recall- 
ing his faithful services of nearly four years, and inveighing against 
the proceedings of the president and council ; who, not content 
with injuring him in a cruel and unprecedented manner with Con- 
gress, had ordered copies of their charges to be printed and 
dispersed throughout the several states, for the purpose of preju- 
dicing the public mind against him, while the matter was yet in 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 375 

suspense. In conclusion, Arnold informed the public that he had 
requested Congress to direct a court-martial to inquire into his 
conduct, and trusted his countrymen would suspend their judg- 
ment in the matter, until he should have an opportunity of being 
heard. 

Public opinion was divided. His brilliant services spoke elo- 
quently in his favor. His admirers repined that a fame won by 
such daring exploits on the field should be stifled down by cold 
calumnies in Philadelphia ; and many thought, dispassionately, 
that the state authorities had acted with excessive harshness 
towards a meritorious officer, in widely spreading their charges 
against him, and thus, in an unprecedented way, putting a public 
brand upon him. 

On the 1 6th of February, Arnold's appeal to Congress was 
referred to the committee which had under consideration the 
letter of President Reed and its accompanying documents, and it 
was charged to make a report with all convenient dispatch. A 
motion was made to suspend Arnold from all command during 
the inc^uiry. To the credit of Congress it was negatived. Much 
contrariety of feeling prevailed on the subject in the committee 
of Congress and the executive council of Pennsylvania, and the 
correspondence between those legislative bodies was occasionally 
tinctured with needless acrimony. Arnold, in the course of 
January, had obtained permission from Washington to resign the 
command of Philadelphia, but deferred to act upon it, until the 
charges against him should be examined, lest, as he said, his ene- 
mies should misinterpret his motives, and ascribe his resignation 
to fear of a disgraceful suspension in consequence of those charges. 

About the middle of March, the committee brought in a report 
exculpating him from all criminality in the matters charged against 
him. As soon as the report was brought in, he considered his 
name vindicated, and resigned. But whatever exultation he may 
have felt was short-lived. Congress did not call up and act upon 
the report, as, in justice to him, they should have done, whether 
to sanction it or not ; but referred the subject anew to a joint 
committee of their body and the assembly and council of Pennsyl- 



376 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

vania. The report of the joint committee brought up animated 
discussions in Congress. Several resolutions recommended by the 
committee were merely of a formal nature, and intended to soothe 
the wounded sensibilities of Pennsylvania ; these were passed with- 
out dissent ; but it was contended that certain charges advanced 
by the executive council of that state were only cognizable by a 
court-martial, and, after a warm debate, it was resolved (April 3d), 
by a large majority, that the commander-in-chief should appoint 
such a court for the consideration of them. 

Arnold inveighed bitterly against the injustice of subjecting him 
to a trial before a military tribunal for alleged offences of which he 
had been acquitted by the committee of Congress. He was sacri- 
ficed, he said, to avoid a breach with Pennsylvania ; and this was, 
no doubt, true. He urged Washington to appoint a speedy day 
for the trial, that he might not linger under the odium of an unjust 
public accusation. It was doubtless soothing to his irritated pride, 
that the woman on whom he had placed his affections remained 
true to him ; for his marriage with Miss Shippen took place just 
five days after the mortifying vote of Congress. 

Washington sympathized with Arnold's impatience, and ap- 
pointed the I St of May for the trial, but it was repeatedly post- 
poned ; first, at the request of the Pennsylvania council, to allow 
time for the arrival of witnesses from the South ; afterwards, in 
consequence of threatening movements of the enemy, which 
obliged every officer to be at his post. Arnold, in the meantime, 
continued to reside at Philadelphia, holding his commission in the 
army, but filling no public office ; getting deeper and deeper in 
debt, and becoming more and more unpopular. At length, when 
the campaign was over, and the army had gone into winter- 
quarters, the long-delayed court-martial was assembled at Morris- 
town. Of the eight charges originally advanced against ArnoM 
by the Pennsylvania council, four only came under cognizance of 
the court. Of two of these he was entirely acquitted. The 
remaining two were : — 

Fu'st, That while in the camp at Valley Forge, he, without the 
knowledge of the commander-in-chief, or the sanction of the state 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 377 

government, had granted a written permission for a vessel belong- 
ing to disaffected persons, to proceed from the port of Philadelphia, 
then in possession of the enemy, to any port of the United States. 

Second. That, availing himself of his official authority, he had 
appropriated the public wagons of Pennsylvania, when called forth 
on a special emergency, to the transportation of private property, 
and that of persons who voluntarily remained with the enemy, and 
were deemed disaffected to the interests and independence of 
America. 

In regard to the first of these charges, Arnold alleged that the 
person who applied for the protection of the vessel, had taken the 
oath of allegiance to the state of Pennsylvania required by the laws ; 
that he was not residing in Philadelphia at the time, but had ap- 
phed on behalf of himself and a company, and that the intentions 
of that person and his associates with regard to the vessel and 
cargo appeared to be upright. As to his having granted the 
permission without the knowledge of the commander-in-chief, 
though present in the camp, Arnold alleged that it was cus- 
tomary in the army for general officers to grant passes and pro- 
tections to inhabitants of the United States, friendly to the same, 
and that the protection was given in the present instance, to 
prevent the soldiery from plundering the vessel and cargo, coming 
from a place in possession of the enemy, until the proper authority 
could take cognizance of the matter. 

In regard to the second charge, while it was proved that under 
his authority wagons had been so used, it was allowed in extenua- 
tion, that they had been employed at private expense, and without 
any design to defraud the public or impede the military service. 

In regard to both charges, nothing fraudulent on the part of 
Arnold was proved, but the transactions involved in the first were 
pronounced irregular, and contrary to one of the articles of war ; 
and in the second, imprudent and reprehensible, considering the 
high station occupied by the general at the time ; and the court 
sentenced him to be reprimanded by the commander-in-chief. 
The sentence was confirmed by Congress on the 12th of February 
(1780). 



378 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

We have forborne to go into all the particulars of this trial, but 
we have considered them attentively, discharging from our minds, 
as much as possible, all impressions produced by Arnold's subse- 
quent history, and we are surprised to find, after the hostility mani- 
fested against him by the council of Pennsylvania and their ex- 
traordinary measure to possess the public mind against him, how 
venial are the trespasses of which he stood convicted. He may 
have given personal offence by his assuming vanity ; by the 
arrogant exercise of his military authority; he may have dis- 
pleased by his ostentation, and awakened distrust by his speculat- 
ing propensities ; but as yet his patriotism was unquestioned. No 
turpitude had been proved against him ; his brilliant exploits shed 
a splendor round his name, and he appeared before the public, a 
soldier crippled in their service. All these should have pleaded in 
his favor, should have produced indulgence of his errors, and miti- 
gated that animosity which he always contended had been the 
cause of his ruin. 

The reprimand adjudged by the court-martial was administered 
by Washington with consummate delicacy. The following were 
his words, as repeated by M. de Marbois, the French secretary of 
legation : — 

" Our profession is the chastest of all : even the shadow of a 
fault tarnishes the lustre of our finest achievements. The least 
inadvertence may rob us of the public favor, so hard to be acquired. 
I reprehend you for having forgotten, that, in proportion as you 
had rendered yourself formidable to our enemies, you should have 
been guarded and temperate in your deportment towards your 
fellow-citizens. Exhibit anew those noble qualities which have 
placed you on the list of our most valued commanders. I will 
myself furnish you, as far as it may be in my power, with oppor- 
tunities of regaining the esteem of your country." 

A reprimand so mild and considerate, accompanied by such 
high eulogiums and generous promises, might have had a favorable 
effect upon Arnold, had he been in a different frame of mind ; but 
he had persuaded himself that the court would incline in his favor 
and acquit him- altogether; and he resented deeply a sentence, 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 379 

which he protested against as unmerited. His resentment was 
aggravated by delays in the settlement of his accounts, as he 
depended upon the sums he claimed as due to him, for the pay- 
ments of debts by which he was harassed. In following the matter 
up, he became a weary, and probably irritable, applicant at the 
halls of Congress, and, we are told, gave great offence to members 
by his importunity, while he wore out the patience of his friends ; 
but public bodies are prone to be offended by the importunity of 
baffled claimants, and the patience of friends is seldom proof 
against the reiterated story of a man's prolonged difficulties. 

In the month of March, we find him intent on a new and 
adventurous project. He had proposed to the Board of Admiralty 
an expedition, requiring several ships-of-war and three or four 
hundred land troops, offering to take command of it should it be 
carried into effect, as his wounds still disabled him from duty on 
land. Washington, who knew his abilities in either service, was 
disposed to favor his proposition, but the scheme fell through from 
the impossibility of sparing the requisite number of men from the 
army. What Arnold's ultimate designs might have been in seek- 
ing such a command, are rendered problematical by his subsequent 
conduct. On the failure of the project, he requested and obtained 
from Washington leave of absence from the army for the summer, 
there being, he said, little prospect of an active campaign, and his 
wounds unfitting him for the field. 

Fall of Charleston. — The return of spring brought little alle- 
viation to the sufferings of the army at Morristown. All means of 
supplying its wants or recruiting its ranks were paralyzed by the 
continued depreciation of the currency. While Washington saw 
his forces gradually diminishing, his solicitude was intensely excited 
for the safety of South Carolina. "The richness of the country," 
says Colonel Tarleton, in his history of the campaign, " its vicinity 
to Georgia, and its distance from General Washington, pointed 
out the advantage and faciHty of its conquest. While it would be 
an unspeakable loss to the Americans, the possession of it would 
tend to secure to the Crown the southern part of the continent 
which stretches beyond it." It was presumed that the subjugation 



380 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

of it would be an easy task. The population was scanty for the 
extent of the country, and was made up of emigrants, or the 
descendants of emigrants, from various lands and of various 
nations : Huguenots, who had emigrated from France after the 
revocation of the edict of Nantes ; Germans, from the Palatinate ; 
Irish Protestants, who had received grants of land from the Crown ; 
Scotch Highlanders, transported hither after the disastrous battle 
of Culloden ; Dutch colonists, who had left New York, after its 
submission to England, and been settled here on bounty lands. 

Some of these foreign elements might be hostile to British 
domination, but others would be favorable. There was a large 
class, too, that had been born or had passed much of their lives in 
England, who retained for it a filial affection, spoke of it as home, 
and sent their children to be educated there. 

The number of slaves within the province and of savages on its 
western frontier, together with its wide extent of unprotected sea- 
coast, were encouragements to an invasion by sea and land. 
Little combination of militia and yeomanry need be apprehended 
from a population sparsely scattered, and where the settlements 
were widely separated by swamps and forests. Washington was 
in no condition to render prompt and effectual relief, his army 
being at a vast distance, and considered as " in a great measure 
broken up." The British, on the contrary, had the advantage of 
their naval force, " there being nothing then in the American seas 
which could even venture to look at it." 

General Lincoln was in command at Charleston, but uncertain 
as yet of the designs of the enemy, and at a loss what course to 
pursue. The voyage of Sir Henry Clinton proved long and 
tempestuous. The ships were dispersed. Most of the artillery 
horses and all those of the cavalry perished. The scattered ships 
rejoined each other about the end of January, at Tybee Bay on 
Savannah river, where those that had sustained damage were 
repaired as speedily as possible. The loss of the cavalry horses 
was especially felt by Sir Henry. There was a corps of two 
hundred and fifty dragoons, on which he depended greatly in the 
kind of guerilla warfare he was likely to pursue, in a country of 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 381 

forests and morasses. Lieutenant- colonel Banastre Tarleton who 
commanded them, was one of those dogs of war, which Sir Henry- 
was prepared to let slip on emergencies, to scour and maraud the 
country. This " bold dragoon," so noted in Southern warfare, 
was about twenty-six years of age, of a swarthy complexion, with 
small, black, piercing eyes. He is described as being rather below 
the middle size, square-built and strong, "with large muscular 
legs." He was a first-rate partisan officer, prompt, ardent, active, 
but somewhat unscrupulous. 

Landing from the fleet, perfectly dismounted, he repaired with 
his dragoons to Port Royal Island, where he succeeded in pro- 
curing horses of an inferior quality to those he had lost. He 
consoled himself with the persuasion that he would secure better 
ones in the course of the campaign, by "exertion and enterprise," 
— a vague phrase, but very significant in the partisan vocabulary. 

Meanwhile the army disembarked on the nth of February, 
1780, on St. John's Island, about thirty miles below Charleston. 
Thence, Sir Henry Clinton set out for the banks of Ashley river, 
opposite to the city, while a part of the fleet proceeded round by 
sea, for the purpose of blockading the harbor. Sir Henry's advance 
was slow and cautious. He ordered from Savannah all the troops 
that could be spared, and wrote to Knyphausen at New York, for 
reinforcements from that place. Every precaution was taken to 
insure against a second repulse before Charleston, which might 
prove fatal to his military reputation. 

General Lincoln took advantage of this slowness on the part of 
his assailant, to extend and strengthen the works. Charleston 
stands at the end of an isthmus formed by the Ashley and Cooper 
rivers. Beyond the main works on the land side he cut a canal, 
from one to the other of the swamps which border these rivers. 
In advance of the canal were two rows of abatis and a double 
picketed ditch. Within the canal, and between it and the main 
works, were strong redoubts and batteries, to open a flanking fire 
on any approaching column, while an enclosed hornwork of 
masonry formed a kind of citadel. 

A squadron commanded by Commodore Whipple, and com- 



382 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

posed of nine vessels of war, of various sizes, the largest mounting 
forty-four guns, was to co-operate with Forts Moultrie and John- 
ston, and the various batteries, in the defence of the harbor. They 
were to lie before the bar so as to command the entrance of it. 
Great reliance also was placed on the bar itself, which it was 
thought no ship of the line could pass. 

Governor Rutledge, a man eminent for talents, patriotism, firm- 
ness, and decision, was clothed with dictatorial powers during the 
present crisis ; he had called out the state militia, and large rein- 
forcements were expected from the North. Under these circum- 
stances. General Lincoln yielded to the entreaties of the inhabitants, 
and instead of remaining with his army in the open country, as he 
had intended, shut himself up with them in the place for its 
defence, leaving merely his cavalry and two hundred light troops 
outside, who were to hover about the enemy and prevent small 
parties from marauding. 

It was not until the 12 th of March that Sir Henry Clinton 
effected his tardy approach, and took up a position on Charles- 
ton Neck, a few miles above the town. Admiral Arbuthnot soon 
showed an intention of introducing his ships into the harbor ; barri- 
cading their waists, anchoring them in a situation where they might 
take advantage of the first favorable spring-tide, and fixing buoys 
on the bar for their guidance. Commodore Whipple had by this 
time ascertained by sounding that a wrong idea had prevailed of 
the depth of water in the harbor, and that his ships could not 
anchor nearer than within three miles of the bar, so that it would 
be impossible for him to defehd the passage of it. He quitted his 
station within it, therefore, after having destroyed a part of the 
enemy's buoys, and took a position where his ships might be 
abreast, and form a cross-fire with the batteries of Fort Moultrie 
where Colonel Pinckney commanded. 

Washington was informed of these facts by letters from his 
former aide-de-camp. Colonel Laurens, who was in Charleston at 
the time. The information caused anxious forebodings. "The 
impracticability of defending the bar, I fear, amounts to the loss 
of the town and garrison," writes he in reply. " It really appears 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 383 

to me that the propriety of attempting to defend the town 
depended on the probabihty of defending the bar, and that when 
this ceased, the attempt ought to have been rehnquished." The 
same opinion was expressed by him in a letter to Baron Steuben ; 
"but at this distance," adds he considerately, "we can form a 
very imperfect judgment of its propriety or necessity. I have the 
greatest reliance in General Lincoln's prudence, but I cannot for- 
bear dreading the event." 

His solicitude for the safety of the South was increased by 
hearing of the embarkation at New York of two thousand five 
hundred troops, under Lord Rawdon, reinforcements for Sir Henry 
Clinton. It seemed evident the enemy intended to push their 
operations with vigor at the South ; perhaps, to make it the prin- 
cipal theatre of the war. Gladly would Washington have hastened 
to the South in person, but at this moment his utmost vigilance 
was required to keep watch upon New York and maintain the 
security of the Hudson, the vital part of the confederacy. The 
weak state of the American means of warfare in both quarters, 
presented a choice of difficulties. The South needed support. 
Could the North give it without exposing itself to ruin, since the 
enemy, by means of their ships, could suddenly unite their forces, 
and fall upon any point that they might consider weak? Such 
were the perplexities to which he was continually subjected, in 
having, with scanty means, to provide for the security of a vast 
extent of country, and with land forces merely, to contend with an 
amphibious enemy. 

Looking, however, as usual, to the good of the whole Union, he 
determined to leave something at hazard in the Middle States, 
where the country was internally so strong, and yield further succor 
to the Southern States, which had not equal military advantages. 
With the consent of Congress, therefore, he put the Maryland line 
under marching orders, together with the Delaware regiment, 
which acted with it and the first regiment of artillery. The Baron 
de Kalb, now at the head of the Maryland division, was instructed 
to conduct this detachment with all haste to the aid of General 
Lincoln. He might not arrive in time to prevent the fall of 



384 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

Charleston, but he might assist in arresting the progress of the 
enemy and saving the Carohnas. 

Several days elapsed before the British ships were able, by taking 
out their guns, provisions, and water, and availing themselves of 
wind and tide, to pass the bar at Charleston. They did so on the 
20th of March, with but slight opposition from several galleys. 
Commodore Whipple, seeing the vast superiority of their force, 
made a second retrograde move, stationing some of his ships in 
Cooper river, and sinking the rest at its mouth so as to prevent 
the enemy from running up that river, and cutting off communica- 
tion with the country on the east. The crews and heavy cannon 
were landed to aid in the defence of the town. 

The reinforcements expected from the North were not yet ar- 
rived ; the militia of the state did not appear at Governor Rut- 
ledge's command, and other reliances were failing. " Many of the 
North Carolina militia whose terms have expired leave us to-day,'* 
writes Lincoln to Washington, on the 20th of March. " They can- 
not be persuaded to remain longer, though the enemy are in our 
neighborhood." 

Early in April, Admiral Arbuthnot passed Sullivan's Island, with 
a fresh southerly breeze, at the head of a squadron of seven armed 
vessels and two transports. Colonel Pinckney opened a heavy 
cannonade from the batteries of Fort Moultrie. The ships thun- 
dered in reply, and clouds of smoke were raised, under the cover 
of which they slipped by, with no greater loss than twenty-seven 
men killed and wounded. A store-ship which followed the squad- 
ron ran aground, was set on fire and abandoned, and subsequently 
blew up. The ships took a position near Fort Johnston, just with- 
out the range of the shot from the American batteries. After the 
passage of the ships. Colonel Pinckney and a part of the garrison 
withdrew from Fort Moultrie. 

The enemy had by this time completed his first parallel, and 
the town being almost entirely invested by sea and land, received 
a joint summons from the British general and admiral to surren- 
der. On Lincoln's refusal, the British batteries were opened. 
The siege was carried on deliberately by regular parallels, and on 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 



385 



a scale of magnitude scarcely warranted by the moderate strength 
of the place. At length the arrival of a reinforcement of three 
thousand men from New York enabled Sir Henry to throw a pow- 
erful detachment, under Lord Cornwallis, to the east of Cooper 
river, to complete the investment of the town and cut off all 
retreat. Fort Moultrie surrendered. The batteries of the third 
parallel were opened upon the town. They were so near that the 
Hessian sharpshooters could pick off the garrison while at their 
guns or on the parapets. This fire was kept up for two days. 
The besiegers crossed the canal, pushed up a double sap to the 
inside of the abatis, and prepared to make an assault by sea and 

land. 

All hopes of successful defence were at an end. The works 
were in ruins; the guns almost all dismounted; the garrison 
exhausted with fatigue, the provisions nearly consumed. The 
inhabitants, dreading the horrors of an assault, joined in a petition 
to General Lincoln, and prevailed upon him to offer a surrender 
on terms which had already been offered and rejected. These 
terms were still granted, and the capitulation was signed on the 
1 2th of May. The prisoners taken by the enemy, exclusive of the 
sailors, amounted to five thousand six hundred and eighteen men ; 
comprising every male adult in the city. The continental troops 
did not exceed two thousand, five hundred of whom were in the 
hospital ; the rest were citizens and militia. 

Sir Henry Clinton considered the fall of Charleston decisive of 
the fate of South Carolina. To complete the subjugation of the 
country, he planned three expeditions into the interior. One, 
under Lieutenant-colonel Brown, was to move up the Savannah 
river to Augusta, on the borders of Georgia. Another, under 
Lieutenant-colonel Cruger, was to proceed up the southwest side 
- of the Santee river to the district of Ninety-Six,i a fertile and 
salubrious region, between the Savannah and the Saluda rivers : 
while a third, under Cornwallis, was to cross the Santee, march up 
the northeast bank, and strike at a corps of troops under Colonel 
^ So called in early times from being ninety-six miles from the principal 
town of the Cherokee nation. 



386 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Buford, which were retreating to North CaroHna with artillery and 
a number of wagons, laden with arms, ammunition, and clothing. 
Buford had arrived too late for the relief of Charleston, and was 
now making a retrograde move with his three hundred and eighty 
troops of the Virginia line, and two field-pieces. 

Tarleton, detached by Cornwallis in pursuit, overtook Buford at 
the Waxhaws, a small stream on the border of North Carolina, 
and completely annihilated his force. The two other detachments 
which had been sent out by Clinton, met with nothing but submis- 
sion. The people in general, considering resistance hopeless, ac- 
cepted the proffered protection, and conformed to its humiliating 
terms. One class of the population in this colony seems to have 
regarded the invaders as deliverers. " All the negroes," writes 
Tarleton, " men, women, and children, upon the appearance of 
any detachment of king's troops, thought themselves absolved 
from all respect to their American masters, and entirely released 
from servitude. They quitted the plantations and followed the 
army." 

Sir Henry now persuaded himself that South Carolina was sub- 
dued, and proceeded to station garrisons in various parts, to main- 
tain it in subjection. In the fulness of his confidence, he issued 
a proclamation on the 3d of June, discharging all the military 
prisoners from their paroles after the 20th of the month, excepting 
those captured in Fort Moultrie and Charleston. iVll thus released 
from their parole were reinstated in the rights and duties of British 
subjects ; but, at the same time, they were bound to take an active 
part in support of the government hitherto opposed by them. 
Thus the protection afforded them while prisoners was annulled by 
an arbitrary fiat — neutrality was at an end. All were to be ready 
to take up arms at a moment's notice. Those who had families 
were to form a militia for home defence. Those who had none, 
were to serve with the royal forces. All who should neglect to re- 
turn to their allegiance, or should refuse to take up arms against 
the independence of their country were to be considered as rebels 
and treated accordingly. Having struck a blow, which, as he con- 
ceived, was to insure the subjugation of the South, Sir Henry em- 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 387 

barked for New York on the 5 th of June, with a part of his forces, 
leaving the residue under the command of Lord CornwalHs, who 
was to carry the war into North Carohna, and thence into Vir- 
ginia. 

The capture of General Lincoln at Charleston left the Southern 
department without a commander-in-chief. Washington had in- 
tended to recommend General Greene for the appointment. He 
was an officer on whose abilities, discretion, and disinterested pa- 
triotism he had the fullest reliance, and whom he had always found 
thoroughly disposed to act in unison with him in his general plan 
of carrying on the war. Congress, however, with unbecoming pre- 
cipitancy, gave that important command to General Gates (June 
13th), without waiting to consult Washington's views or wishes. 
Gates, at the time, was on his estate in Virginia, and accepted 
the appointment with avidity, anticipating new triumphs. His old 
associate, Charles Lee, gave him an ominous caution at parting. 
" Beware that your Northern laurels do not change to Southern 
willows ! " 

Arrival of Rochambeau. — On the loth of July, a French fleet, 
under the Chevalier de Ternay, arrived at Newport, in Rhode 
Island. It was composed of seven ships of the hne, two frigates 
and two bomb-vessels, and convoyed transports on board of which 
there were upwards of five thousand troops. This was the first 
division of an army promised by France. The second division 
had been detained at Brest for want of transports, but might soon 
be expected. 

The Count de Rochambeau, a veteran, fifty-five years of age, 
was commander-in-chief of this auxiliary force. The troops were 
landed to the east of the town ; their encampment was on a fine 
situation, and extended nearly across the island. Much was said 
of their gallant and martial appearance. There was the noted 
regiment of Auvergne, in command of which the Count de 
Rochambeau had first gained his laurels, but which was now com- 
manded by his son the viscount, thirty years of age. A legion of 
six hundred men also was especially admired ; it was commanded 
by the Duke de Lauzun-Biron, who had gained reputation in the 



388 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

preceding year by the capture of Senegal. A feeling of adventure 
and romance, associated with the American struggle, had caused 
many of the young nobility to seek this new field of achievement. 
The instructions of the French ministry to the Count de Rocham- 
beau placed him entirely under the command of General Wash- 
ington. The French troops were to be considered as auxiliaries, 
and as such were to take the left of the American troops, and, in all 
cases of ceremony, to yield them the preference. This considerate 
arrangement had been adopted at the suggestion of the Marquis 
de Lafayette, and was intended to preVent the recurrence of those 
questions of rank and etiquette which had heretofore disturbed 
the combined service. 

Washington, in general orders, congratulated the army on the 
arrival of this timely and generous succor, which he hailed as a 
new tie between France and America ; anticipating that the only 
contention between the two armies would be to excel each other 
in good offices, and in the display of every military virtue. The 
American cockade had hitherto been black, that of the French 
was white ; he recommended to his officers a cockade of black 
and white intermingled in compliment to their alHes, and as a 
symbol of friendship and union. 

His joy at this important reinforcement was dashed by the mor- 
tifying reflection, that he was still unprovided with the troops and 
military means requisite for the combined operations meditated. 
Still he took upon himself the responsibility of immediate action, 
and forthwith dispatched Lafayette to have an interview with the 
French commanders, explain the circumstances of the case, and 
concert plans for the proposed attack upon New York. 

The arrival, however, of the British Admiral Graves, on the 13th 
of July, with six ships of the line, gave the enemy such a superi- 
ority of naval force, that the design on New York was postponed 
until the second French division should make its appearance, or 
a squadron under the Count de Guichen, which was expected from 
the West Indies. 

In the meantime Sir Henry Clinton, who had information of 
all the plans and movements of the allies, determined to forestall 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 389 

the meditated attack upon New York, by beating up the French 
quarters on Rhode Island. He accordingly proceeded with six 
thousand men to Throg's Neck, there to embark on board of trans- 
ports which Arbuthnot was to provide. No sooner did Washing- 
ton learn that so large a force had left New York, than he crossed 
the Hudson to Peekskill, and prepared to move towards King's 
Bridge, with the main body of his troops, which had recently been 
reinforced. His intention was, either to oblige Sir Henry to aban- 
don his project against Rhode Island, or to strike a blow at New 
York during his absence. As Washington was on horseback, 
observing the crossing of the last division of his troops, General 
Arnold approached, having just arrived in the camp. Arnold had 
been manoeuvring of late to get the command of West Point, and 
had induced Mr. Robert Livingston, then a New York member of 
Congress, to suggest it in a letter to Washington as a measure of 
great expediency. Arnold now accosted the latter to know 
whether any place had been assigned to him. He was told that 
he was to command the left wing. The silence and evident cha- 
grin with which the reply was received surprised Washington, and 
he was still more surprised when he learned that Arnold was more 
desirous of a garrison post than of a command in the field, al- 
though a post of honor had been assigned him, and active service 
was anticipated. Arnold's excuse was that his wounded leg still 
unfitted him for action either on foot or horseback ; but that at 
West Point he might render himself useful. 

The expedition of Sir Henry was delayed by the tardy arrival of 
transports. In the meantime he heard of the sudden move of 
Washington, and learned, moreover, that the position of the French 
at Newport had been strengthened by the militia from the neigh- 
boring country. These tidings disconcerted his plans. He left 
Admiral Arbuthnot to proceed with his squadron to Newport, 
blockade the French fleet, and endeavor to intercept the second 
division, supposed to be on its way, while he with his troops has- 
tened back to New York. In consequence of their return, Wash- 
ington again withdrew his forces to the west side of the Hudson ; 
first establishing a post and throwing up small works at Dobbs' 



390 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Ferry, to secure a communication across the river for the trans- 
portation of troops and ordnance, should the design upon New 
York be prosecuted. 

Arnold now received the important command which he had so 
earnestly coveted. It included the fortress at West Point and the 
posts from Fish Kill to King's Ferry, together with the corps of 
infantry and cavalry advanced towards the enemy's line on the 
east side of the river. He was ordered to have the works at the 
Point completed as expeditiously as possible, and to keep all his 
posts on their guard against surprise ; there being constant appre- 
hensions that the enemy might make a sudden effort to gain pos- 
session of the river. 

Having made these arrangements, Washington recrossed to the 
west side of the Hudson, and took post at Tappan, on the bor- 
ders of the Jerseys, and opposite to Dobbs' Ferry, to be at hand 
for any attempt upon New York. The execution of this cherished 
design, however, was again postponed by intelligence that the 
second division of the French reinforcements was blockaded in 
the harbor of Brest by the British ; Washington still had hopes 
that it might be carried into effect by the aid of the squadron of 
the Count de Guichen from the West Indies ; or of a fleet from 
Cadiz. 

Battle of Camden. — The anxiety of Washington at this 
moment of embarrassment was heightened by the receipt of dis- 
astrous intelligence from the South. 

Lord Cornwallis forbore to attempt the invasion of North Caro- 
hna until the summer heats should be over and the harvests gath- 
ered in. In the meantime he disposed of his troops in canton- 
ments, to cover the frontiers of South Carolina and Georgia, and 
maintain their internal quiet. The command of the frontiers was 
given by him to Lord Rawdon, who made Camden his principal 
post. This town was situated on the east bank of the Wateree 
river, on the road leading to North Carolina. It was to be the 
grand military depot for the projected campaign. 

Having made these dispositions. Lord Cornwallis set up his 
head-quarters at Charleston, where he occupied himself in regu- 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 391 

lating the civil and commercial affairs of the province, in organ- 
izing the militia of the lower districts, and in forwarding provisions 
and munitions of war to Camden. The proclamation of Sir 
Henry Clinton, putting an end to all neutrality, and the rigorous 
penalties and persecutions with which all infractions of its terms 
were punished, had for a time quelled the spirit of the country. 
By degrees, however, the dread of British power gave way to 
impatience of British exactions. Symptoms of revolt manifested 
themselves in various parts. They were encouraged by intelli- 
gence that Kalb was advancing through North Carolina at the 
head of two thousand men, and that the militia of that state 
and of Virginia were joining his standard. This was soon fol- 
lowed by tidings that Gates, the concjueror of Burgoyne, was 
on his way to take command of the Southern forces. 

The prospect of such aid from the North reanimated the South- 
ern patriots. One of the most eminent of these was Thomas 
Sumter, whom the Carolinians had surnamed the Game Cock. 
He was between forty and fifty years of age, brave, hardy, vigor- 
ous, resolute. He had served against the Indians in his boyhood, 
during the old French war, and had been present at the defeat of 
Braddock. In the present war he had held the rank of lieutenant- 
colonel of riflemen in the Continental line. After the fall of 
Charleston, he had retired with his family into one of the natural 
fastnesses of the country. 

The lower part of South CaroHna for upwards of a hundred 
miles back from the sea is a level country, abounding with swamps, 
locked up in the windings of the rivers which flow down from the 
Appalachian Mountains. Some of these swamps are mere cane- 
brakes, of little use until subdued by cultivation, when they yield 
abundant crops of rice. Others are covered with forests of 
cypress, cedar, and laurel, green all the year and odoriferous, but 
tangled with vines and almost impenetrable. In their bosoms, 
however, are fine savannahs ; natural lawns, open to cultivation, 
and yielding abundant pasturage. It requires local knowledge, 
however, to penetrate these wildernesses, and hence they form 
strongholds to the people of the country. In one of these natu- 



392 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ral fastnesses, on the borders of the Santee, Sumter had taken up 
his residence, and hence he would sally forth in various direc- 
tions. During a temporary absence his retreat had been invaded, 
his house burnt to the ground, his wife and children driven forth 
without shelter. Private injury had thus been added to the incen- 
tives of patriotism. Emerging from his hiding-place, he had 
thrown himself among a handful of his fellow- sufferers who had 
taken refuge in North Carolina. They chose him at once as a 
leader, and resolved on a desperate struggle for the deliverance of 
their native state. Destitute of regular weapons, they forged rude 
substitutes out of the implements of husbandry. Old mill-saws 
were converted into broad-swords ; knives at the ends of poles 
served for lances ; while the country housewives gladly gave up 
their pewter dishes and other utensils, to be melted down and cast 
into bullets for such as had firearms. 

When Sumter led this gallant band of exiles over the border, 
they did not amount in number to two hundred ; yet, with these, 
he attacked and routed a well-armed body of British troops and 
Tories, the terror of the frontier. His followers supplied them- 
selves with weapons from the slain. In a little while his band was 
augmented by recruits. Parties of militia, also, recently embodied 
under the measures of Cornwallis, deserted to the patriot stand- 
ard. Thus reinforced to the amount of six hundred men, he 
made, on the 30th of July, a spirited attack on the British post at 
Rocky Mount, near the Catawba, but was repulsed. A more suc- 
cessful attack was made by him, eight days afterwards, on another 
post at Hanging Rock. The Prince of Wales regiment which 
defended it was nearly annihilated, and a large body of North 
Carolina loyalists was routed and dispersed. The gallant exploits 
of Sumter were emulated in other parts of the country, and the 
partisan war thus commenced was carried on with an audacity 
that soon obliged the enemy to call in their outposts, and collect 
their troops in large masses. 

The advance of Kalb with reinforcements from the North, 
had been retarded by various difficulties, the most important of 
vi^hich was want of provisions. This had been especially the case 



THE DISASTERS OF 17S0. 393 

since his arrival in North CaroHna. The legislative or executive 
power, he complained, gave him no assistance, nor could he ob- 
tain supplies from the people but by miUtary force. His troops 
were reduced for a time to short allowance, and at length, on the 
6th of July, brought to a positive halt at a branch of Cape Fear 
river. The North Carolina militia, under General Caswell, were 
already in the field, on the road to Camden, beyond the Pedee 
river. He was anxious to form a junction with them, and with 
some Virginia troops, under Colonel Porterfield, remnants of the 
defenders of Charleston ; but a wide and sterile region lay between 
him and them, difficult to be traversed, unless magazines were 
established in advance, or he were suppUed with provisions to take 
with him. Thus circumstanced, he wrote to Congress and to the 
state Legislature, representing his situation, and entreating relief. 
For three weeks he remained in this encampment, foraging an 
exhausted country for a meagre subsistence, and was thinking of 
deviating to the right, and seeking the fertile counties of Meck- 
lenburg and Rowan, when, on the 25 th of July, General Gates 
arrived at the camp. 

The baron greeted him with a continental salute from his little 
park of artillery, and received him with the ceremony and defer- 
ence due to a superior officer who was to take the command. 
There was a contest of politeness between the two generals. Gates 
approved of Kalb's standing orders, but at the first review of 
the troops, to the great astonishment of the baron, gave orders for 
them to hold themselves in readiness to march at a inomenfs 
lifajiiing. It was evident he meant to signalize himself by celerity 
of movement in contrast with protracted delays. It was in vain 
the destitute situation of the troops was represented to him, and 
that they had not a day's provision in advance. His reply was, 
that wagons laden with supplies were coming on, and would over- 
take them in two days. On the 2 7th, he actually put the army in 
motion over the Buffalo Ford, on the direct road to Camden. 
Colonel Williams, the adjutant-general of Kalb, warned him of 
the sterile nature of that route, and recommended a more circuit- 
ous one further north, which the baron had intended to take, and 



394 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

which passed through the abundant county of Me.cklenburg. Gates 
persisted in taking the direct route, observing that he should the 
sooner form a junction with Caswell and the North Carolina militia ; 
and as to the sterility of the country, his supplies would soon over- 
take him. 

The route proved all that had been represented. It led through 
a region of pine barrens, sand hills, and swamps, with few human 
habitations, and those mostly deserted. The supplies of which he 
bad spoken never overtook him. His army had to subsist itself 
on lean cattle, roaming almost wild in the woods ; and to supply 
the want of bread with green Indian corn, unripe apples, and 
peaches. The consequence was a distressing prevalence of dysen- 
tery. 

Having crossed the Pedee river on the 3d of August, the army 
was joined by a handful of brave Virginia regulars, under Colonel 
Porterfield, who had been wandering about the country since the 
disaster of Charleston ; and, on the 7th, the much-desired junction 
took place with the North Carolina militia. On the 13th they 
encamped at Rugeley's Mills, otherwise called Clermont, about 
twelve miles from Camden, and on the following day were rein- 
forced by a brigade of seven hundred Virginia militia, under Gen- 
eral Stevens. 

On the approach of Gates, Lord Rawdon had concentrated his 
forces at Camden. The post was flanked by the Wateree river 
and Pine-tree Creek, and strengthened with redoubts. Lord 
Cornwallis had hastened hither from Charleston on learning that 
affairs in this quarter were drawing to a crisis, and had arrived 
here on the 13th. The British effective force thus collected was 
something more than two thousand, including officers. About five 
hundred were militia and Tory refugees from North Carolina. 

The forces under Gates, according to the return of his adjutant- 
general, w^ere three thousand and fifty-two fit for duty ; more than 
two-thirds of them, however, were mihtia. On the 14th, he re- 
ceived an express from General Sumter, who, with his partisan 
corps, after harassing the enemy at various points, was now en- 
deavoring to cut off their supplies from Charleston. The object 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 395 

of the express was to ask a reinforcement of regulars to aid him in 
capturing a large convoy of clothing, ammunition, and stores, on 
its way to the garrison, and which would pass Wateree Ferry, 
about a mile from Camden. Gates accordingly detached Colonel 
Woolford of the Maryland line, with one hundred regulars, a party 
of artillery, and two brass field-pieces. On the same evening he 
moved with his main force to take post at a deep stream about 
seven miles from Camden, intending to attack Lord Rawdon or 
his redoubts should he march out in force to repel Sumter. It 
seems hardly credible that Gates should have been so remiss 
in collecting information concerning the movements of his enemy 
as to be utterly unaware that Lord Cornwallis had arrived at 
Camden. Such, however, we are assured by his adjutant-general, 
was the fact. 

By a singular coincidence. Lord Cornwallis on the very same 
evening sallied forth from Camden to attack the American camp 
at Clermont. About two o'clock at night, the two forces blun- 
dered on each other about half way. A skirmish took place 
between their advance guards, in which Porterfield was mortally 
wounded and some prisoners were taken on either side. From 
these the respective commanders learned the nature of the forces 
each had stumbled upon. Both halted, formed their troops for 
action, but deferred further hostihties until daylight. 

Gates was astounded at being told that the enemy at hand was 
Cornwallis with three thousand men. Calling a council of war, he 
demanded what was best to be done. For a moment or two there 
was blank silence. It was broken by General Stevens, of the 
Virginia militia, with the question, " Gentlemen, is it not too late 
now to do anything but fight?" No other advice was asked or 
offered, and all were required to repair to their respective com- 
mands, though General de Kalb, we are told, was of opinion that 
they should regain their position at Clermont, and there await an 
attack. 

In forming the line, the second Maryland brigade, including the 
Delawares, was on the right, commanded by Kalb. The Vir- 
ginia militia under Stevens, were on the left. Caswell with the 



396 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

North Carolinians formed the centre. The artillery was in battery 
on the road. Each flank was covered by a marsh. The first 
Maryland brigade formed a reserve, a few hundred yards in rear 
of the second. 

At daybreak (August i6th), the enemy were dimly descried 
advancing in column. Gates ordered Stevens to advance briskly 
with his brigade of Virginia militia and attack them while in the 
act of deploying. No sooner did Stevens receive the order than 
he put his brigade in motion, but discovered that the right wing of 
the enemy was already in line. The British rushed on, shouting 
and firing. The inexperienced militia, dismayed and confounded 
by this impetuous assault, threw down their loaded muskets and 
fled. The panic spread to the North Carolina militia, who soon 
joined with the rest in flight, rendered headlong and disastrous 
by the charge and pursuit of Tarleton and his cavalry. Gates 
made several attempts to rally the militia, but was borne along 
with them. The day was hazy ; there was no wind to carry 
off the smoke, which hung over the field of battle like a thick 
cloud. Nothing could be seen distinctly. Supposing that the 
regular troops were dispersed like the militia, Gates gave all up 
for lost, and retreated from the field. 

The regulars, however, had not given way. The Maryland brig- 
ades and the Delaware regiment, unconscious that they were de- 
serted by the militia, stood their ground, and bore the brunt of 
the battle. Though repeatedly broken, they as often rallied, and 
braved even the deadly push of the bayonet. At length a charge 
of Tarleton's cavalry on their flank threw them into confusion, and 
drove them into the woods and swamps. None showed more 
gallantry on this disastrous day than the Baron de Kalb ; he 
fought on foot with the second Maryland brigade, and fell ex- 
hausted after receiving eleven wounds. If the militia fled too soon 
in this battle, said the adjutant-general, the regulars remained too 
long, fighting when there was no hope of victory. 

Gates, in retreating, had hoped to rally a sufficient force at 
Clermont to cover the retreat of the regulars, but the further they 
fled, the more the militia were dispersed, until the generals were 




M 



ritish Advance 
CAMOEN 



To face page 396. 



THE DISASTERS OE 17S0. 397 

abandoned by all but their aides. To add to the mortification of 
Gates, he learned that Sumter had been completely successful, and 
having reduced the enemy's redoubt on the Wateree, and captured 
one hundred prisoners and forty loaded wagons, was marching off 
with his booty on the opposite side of the river; apprehending 
danger from the quarter in which he had heard firing in the morn- 
ing. Gates had no longer any means of co-operating with him ; 
he sent orders to him, therefore, to retire in the best manner he 
could ; while he himself proceeded with General Caswell towards 
the village of Charlotte, about sixty miles distant. 

Cornwallis was apprehensive that Sumter's corps might form a 
rallying point to the routed army. On the morning of the 1 7th of 
August, therefore, he detached Tarleton in pursuit with a body of 
cavalry and light infantry, about three hundred and fifty strong. 
Sumter was retreating up the western side of the Wateree, much 
encumbered by his spoils and prisoners. Tarleton pushed up, by 
forced and concealed marches, on the eastern side. Horses and 
men suffered from the intense heat of the weather. At dusk 
Tarleton descried the fires of the American camp about a mile 
from the opposite shore. He gave orders to secure all boats on 
the river, and to light no fire in the camp. In the morning his 
sentries gave word that the Americans were quitting their encamp- 
ment. It was evident they knew nothing of a British force being 
in pursuit of them. Tarleton now crossed the Wateree ; the 
infantry with a three-pounder passed in boats ; the cavalry swam 
their horses where the river was not fordable. The delay in cross- 
ing, and the diligence of Sumter's march, increased the distance 
between the pursuers and the pursued. About noon a part of 
Tarleton's force gave out through heat and fatigue. Leaving them 
to repose on the bank of Fishing Creek, he pushed on with about 
one hundred dragoons, the freshest and most able, still marching 
with great circumspection. As he entered a valley, a discharge of 
small-arms from a thicket tumbled a dragoon from his saddle. 
His comrades galloped up to the place, and found two American 
videttes, whom they sabred before Tarleton could interpose. A 
sergeant and five dragoons rode up to the summit of a neighboring 



398 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

hill to reconnoiter. Crouching on their horses they made signs 
to Tarleton. He cautiously approached the crest of the hill, and 
looking over beheld the American camp on a neighboring height, 
and apparently in a most negligent condition. 

Sumter, in fact, having pressed his retreat to the neighborhood 
of the Catawba Ford, and taken a strong position at the mouth of 
Fishing Creek, and his patrols having scoured the road without 
discovering any signs of an enemy, considered himself secure from 
surprise. The two shots fired by his videttes had been heard, but 
were supposed to have been made by militia shooting cattle. The 
troops, having for the last four days been almost without food or 
sleep, were now indulged in complete relaxation. Their arms 
were stacked, and they were scattered about, some strolling, some 
lying on the grass under the trees, some bathing in the river. 
Sumter himself had thrown off part of his clothes on account of 
the heat of the weather. 

Having well reconnoitered this negligent camp, indulging in 
summer supineness and sultry repose, Tarleton prepared for in- 
stant attack. His cavalry and infantry formed into one line, 
dashed forward with a general shout, and, before the Americans 
could recover from their surprise, got between them and the 
parade ground on which the muskets were stacked. All was 
confusion and consternation in the American camp. Some 
opposition was made from behind baggage wagons, and there 
was skirmishing in various quarters, but in a little while there was 
a universal flight to the river and the woods. Between three 
and four hundred were killed and wounded ; all their arms and 
baggage, with two brass field-pieces, fell into the hands of the 
enemy, who also recaptured the prisoners and booty taken at 
Camden. Sumter, with about three hundred and fifty of his men, 
effected a retreat ; he galloped off, it is said, without saddle, hat, 
or coat. 

Gates, on reaching the village of Charlotte, had been joined by 
some fugitives from his army. He continued on to Hillsborough, 
one hundred and eighty miles from Camden, where he made a 
stand, and endeavored to rally his scattered forces. His regular 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 399 

troops, however, were little more than one thousand. As to the 
militia of North and South Carolina, they had dispersed to their 
respective homes, depending upon the patriotism and charity of 
the farmers along the road for food and shelter. 

It was not until the beginning of September that Washington 
received word of the disastrous reverse at Camden. The shock 
was the greater, as previous reports from that quarter had repre- 
sented the operations a few days preceding the action as much in 
our favor. It was evident to Washington that the course of war 
must ultimately tend to the Southern States, yet the situation of 
affairs in the North did not permit him to detach any sufficient 
force for their relief. All that he could do for the present was to 
endeavor to hold the enemy in check in that quarter. For this 
purpose, he gave orders that some regular troops enlisted in Mary- 
land for the war, and intended for the main army, should be sent 
to the southward. 

He still cherished the idea of a combined attack upon New 
York as soon as a French naval force should arrive. The destruc- 
tion of the enemy here would relieve this part of the Union from 
an internal war, and enable its troops and resources to be united 
with those of France in vigorous efforts against the common enemy 
elsewhere. Hearing, therefore, that the Count de Guichen, with 
his West India squadron, was approaching the coast, Washington 
prepared to proceed to Hartford, in Connecticut, there to hold a 
conference with Rochambeau and Tern ay, and concert a plan for 
future operations, of which the attack on New York was to form 
the principal feature. 

Arnold's Treason. — We have now to enter upon a sad episode 
of our Revolutionary history — the treason of Arnold. Of the mil- 
itary skill, daring enterprise, and indomitable courage of this man, 
ample evidence has been given in the foregoing pages. Of the 
implicit confidence reposed in his patriotism by Washington, 
sufficient proof is manifested in the command with which he was 
actually entrusted. But Arnold was false at heart, and, at the very 
time of seeking that command, had been for many months in 
traitorous correspondence with the enemy. 



400 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The first idea of proving recreant to the cause he had vindicated 
so bravely appears to have entered his mind when the charges 
preferred against him by the council of Pennsylvania were referred 
by Congress to a court-martial. Before that time he had been 
incensed against Pennsylvania : but now his wrath was excited 
against his country, which appeared so insensible to his services. 
Disai:)pointment in regard to the settlement of his accounts added 
to his irritation, and mingled sordid motives with his resentment ; 
and he began to think how, while he wreaked his vengeance on 
his country, he might do it with advantange to his fortunes. With 
this view he commenced a correspondence with Sir Henry Clinton 
in a disguised handwriting, and, over the signature of " Gustavus," 
representing himself as a person of importance in the American 
service, who, being dissatisfied with the late proceedings of Con- 
gress, particularly the alliance with France, was desirous of joining 
the cause of Great Britain, could he be certain of personal security, 
and indemnification for whatever loss of property he might sustain. 
His letters occasionally communicated articles of intelligence of 
some moment which proved to be true, and induced Sir Henry to 
keep up the correspondence ; which was conducted on his part by 
his aide-de-camp. Major John Andre, likewise in a disguised hand, 
and over the signature of John "Anderson." 

Months elapsed before Sir Henry discovered who was his secret 
correspondent. Meanwhile Arnold had taken command of West 
Point about the beginning of August, 1780, fixing his head-quar- 
ters at Beverley, a country seat a little below, and on the opposite 
or eastern side of the river. It stood in a lonely part of the High- 
lands, high up from the river, at the foot of a mountain covered 
with woods. It was commonly called the Robinson House, having 
formerly belonged to Colonel Beverley Robinson, who had entered 
into the British service, and was now residing in New York, while 
Beverley with its surrounding lands had been confiscated. 

From this place Arnold carried on a secret correspondence with 
Major Andre. Their letters, still in disguised hands, and under 
the names of Gustavus and John Anderson, purported to treat 
merely of commercial operations, but the real matter in negotia- 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 401 

tion was the betrayal of West Point and the Highlands to Sir 
Henry Clinton. This stupendous piece of treachery was to be 
consummated at the time when Washington, with the main body 
of his army, would be drawn down towards King's Bridge, and the 
French troops landed on Long Island, in the projected co-opera- 
tion against New York. At such time, a flotilla under Rodney, 
having on board a large land force, was to ascend the Hudson to 
the Highlands, which would be surrendered by Arnold almost 
without opposition, under pretext of insufficient force to make 
resistance. The immediate result of this surrender, it was antici- 
pated, would be the defeat and dislocation of the whole American 
scheme of warfare. 

Major Andr6 was born in London, in 1751, but his parents were 
of Geneva in Switzerland, where he was educated. Being intended 
for mercantile life, he entered a London counting-house, but aban- 
doned it and entered the army in 1771. He came to America in 
1774, as lieutenant of the Royal Fusileers, and was among the 
officers captured at Saint John, early in the war, by Montgomery. 
His varied and graceful talents, and his engaging manners, ren- 
dered him generally popular; while his devoted and somewhat 
subservient loyalty recommended him to the favor of his com- 
mander, and obtained him, without any distinguished military ser- 
vices, the appointment of adjutant-general with the rank of major. 
He was a prime promoter of elegant amusement in camp and gar- 
rison ; manager, actor, and scene painter in those amateur theatri- 
cals in which the British officers delighted. He held, moreover, a 
facile, and at times, satirical pen, and occasionally amused him- 
self with caricaturing in rhyme the appearance and exploits of the 
"rebel officers." 

Andre had already employed that pen in a furtive manner, after 
the evacuation of Philadelphia by the British ; having carried on a 
correspondence with the leaders of a body of loyalists near the 
waters of the Chesapeake, who were conspiring to restore the royal 
government. In the present instance he had engaged, nothing 
loth, in a service of intrigue and manoeuvre, which, however sanc- 
tioned by military usage, should hardly have invited the zeal of a 



402 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

high-minded man. We say manoeuvre, because he appears to 
have availed himself of his former acquaintance with Mrs. Arnold, 
to make her an unconscious means of facilitating a correspondence 
with her husband. Some have inculpated her in the guilt of the 
transaction, but, we think, unjustly. Various circumstances con- 
nected with this negotiation argue lightness of mind and some- 
thing of debasing alloy on the part of Andre. The correspondence 
'carried on for months in the jargon of traffic savored less of the 
camp than the counting-house ; the protracted tampering with a 
brave but ill-treated and necessitous man for the sacrifice of his 
fame and the betrayal of his trust, strikes us as being beneath the 
range of a truly chivalrous nature. 

For the completion of the plan, a personal meeting between 
Arnold and Andr6 seemed necessary. Arrangements were made 
for an interview, after Washington should depart for Hartford, to 
hold his conference with Count Rochambeau and the other French 
officers. In the meantime, the British sloop of war, Vtdture, was 
anchored a few miles below Teller's Point, to be at hand in aid 
of the negotiation. On board was Colonel Robinson, who, pre- 
tending to believe that General Putnam still commanded in the 
Highlands, addressed a note to him requesting an interview on 
the subject of his confiscated property. This letter he sent by a 
flag, enclosed in one addressed to Arnold ; soliciting of him the 
same boon should General Putnam be absent. On the i8th 
September, Washington with his suite crossed the Hudson to 
Verplanck's Point, in Arnold's barge, on his way to Hartford. 
Arnold accompanied him as far as Peekskill, and on the way laid 
before him, with affected frankness, the letter of Colonel Robin- 
son, and asked his advice. Washington disapproved of any such 
interview, observing, that the civil authorities alone had cogni- 
zance of these questions of confiscated property. 

Arnold now openly sent a flag on board of the Vulture, as if 
bearing a reply to the letter he had communicated to the com- 
mander-in-chief. By this means, he informed Colonel Robinson 
that a person with a boat and flag would be alongside the Vultm-e, 
on the night of the 20th ; and that any matter he might wish to 



THE DISASTERS OF 17S0. 403 

communicate, would be laid before General Washington on the fol- 
lowing Saturday, when he might be expected back from Hartford. 
On the faith of the information thus coverdy conveyed, Andr^ 
proceeded up the Hudson on the 20th, and went on board the 
Vulture, where he found Colonel Robinson, and expected to meet 
Arnold. The latter, however, had made other arrangements, 
probably with a view to his personal security. About half-past 
eleven, of a still and starlight night (the 21st), a boat was descried 
from on board, gliding silently along, rowed by two men with 
muffled oars. She was hailed by an officer on watch, and called 
to account. A man, seated in the stern, gave out that they were 
from King's Ferry, bound to Dobbs' Ferry. He was ordered 
alongside, and soon made his way on board. He proved to be 
Mr. Joshua Smith, whom Arnold had prevailed upon to go on 
board of the Vulture, and bring a person on shore who was coming 
from New York with important intelligence. He had given him 
passes to protect him and those with him, in case he should be 
stopped either in going or returning, by the American water guard, 
which patrolled the river in whale-boats. He had made him the 
bearer of a letter addressed to Colonel Beverley Robinson, which 
was to the following purport : '' This will be delivered to you by 
Mr. Smith, who will conduct you to a place of safety. Neither 
Mr. Smith nor any other person shall be made acquainted with 
your proposals ; if they (which I doubt not) are of such a nature 
that I can officially take notice of them, I shall do it with pleasure. 
I take it for granted Colonel Robinson will not propose anything 
that is not for the interest of the United States as well as of him- 
self." All this use of Colonel Robinson's name was intended as a 
blind, should the letter be intercepted. 

Robinson introduced Andr^ to Smith by the name of John 
Anderson, who was to go on shore in his place (he being unwell), 
to have an interview with General Arnold. Andr^ wore a blue 
great coat which covered his uniform, and Smith always declared 
that at the time he was totally ignorant of his name and military 
character. Robinson considered this whole nocturnal proceeding 
full of peril, and would have dissuaded Andr^, but the latter wag 



404 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

zealous in executing liis mission, and, embarking in the boat with 
Smith, was silently rowed to the western side of the river, about 
six miles below Stony Point. Here they landed a little after mid- 
night, at the foot of a shadowy mountain called the Long Clove ; 
a solitary place, the haunt of the owl and the whippoorwill, and 
well fitted for a treasonable conference. 

Arnold was in waiting, but standing aloof among thickets. He 
had come hither on horseback from Smith's house, about three or 
four miles distant, attended by one of Smith's servants, likewise 
mounted. The midnight negotiation between Andr^ and Arnold 
was carried on in darkness among the trees. Smith remained in 
the boat, and the servant drew off to a distance with the horses. 
One hour after another passed away, when Smith approached the 
place of conference, and gave warning that it was near daybreak, 
and if they lingered much longer the boat would be discovered. 
The nefarious bargain was not yet completed, and Arnold feared 
the sight of a boat going to the Vulture might cause suspicion. 
He prevailed, therefore, upon Andr^ to remain on shore until the 
following night. The boat was accordingly sent to a creek higher 
up the river, and Andr4, mounting the servant's horse, set off with 
Arnold for Smith's house. The road passed through the village 
of Haverstraw. As they rode along in the dark, the voice of a 
sentinel demanding the countersign startled Andr^ with the fearful 
conviction that he was within the American lines, but it was too 
late to recede. It was daybreak when they arrived at Smith's house. 
They had scarcely entered when the booming of cannon was 
heard from down the river. It gave Andr^ uneasiness, and with 
reason. American batteries on Teller's Point were firing upon the 
Vulture, which presently weighed anchor, and dropped down the 
river out of reach of cannon-shot. 

After breakfast, the plot for the betrayal of West Point was 
adjusted. Andr^ was furnished with plans of the works, and ex- 
planatory papers, which he placed between his stockings and his 
feet. All matters being thus arranged, Arnold prepared to return 
in his own barge to his head-quarters at the Robinson House. As 
the Vulture had shifted her ground, he suggested to Andr6 a return 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 405 

to New York by land, as most safe and expeditious ; the latter, 
however, insisted upon being put on board of the sloop of war, on 
the ensuing night. Arnold consented ; but, before his departure, 
to provide against the possible necessity of a return by land, he 
gave Andr^ the following pass, dated from the Robinson House : — 

" Permit Mr. John Anderson to pass the guards to the White 
Plains, or below, if he chooses ; he being on public business by 
my direction. B. Arnold, M. Genl." 

Smith also, who was to accompany him, was furnished with 
passports to proceed either by water or by land. 

Arnold departed about ten o'clock. Andr(§ passed a lonely day, 
casting many a wistful look toward the Vultui-e. Once on board 
of that ship he would be safe ; he would have fulfilled his mission ; 
the capture of West Point would be certain, and his triumph would 
be complete. As evening approached he grew impatient, and 
spoke to Smith about departure. To his surprise, he found the 
latter had made no preparation for it ; he had discharged his boat- 
men, who had gone home : in short, he refused to take him on 
board of the V^ulture. The cannonade of the morning had prob- 
ably made him fear for his personal safety, should he attempt to 
go on board. He offered, however, to cross the river with Andrt^ 
at King's Ferry, put him in the way of returning to New York by 
land, and accompany him some distance on horseback. Andr^ 
was in an agony at finding himself, notwithstanding all his stipula- 
tions, forced within the American lines ; but there seemed to be 
no alternative, and he prepared for the hazardous journey. He 
wore, as we have noted, a military coat under a long blue surtout ; 
he was now persuaded to lay it aside, and put on a citizen's coat 
of Smith's ; thus adding disguise to the other humiliating and 
hazardous circumstances of the case. 

It was about sunset when Andr^ and Smith, attended by a negro 
servant of the latter, crossed from King's Ferry to Verplanck's 
Point. After proceeding about eight miles on the road toward 
White Plains, they were stopped between eight and nine o'clock, 



406 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

near Crompond, by a patrolling party. The captain of it was 
uncommonly inquisitive and suspicious. The passports with 
Arnold's signature satisfied him. He warned them, however, 
against the danger of proceeding further in the night, as Cow Boys 
from the British lines were scouring the country. Smith's fears 
were again excited, and Andr^ was obliged to yield to them. A 
bed was furnished them in a neighboring house, where Andr^ 
passed an anxious and restless night, under the very eye, as it 
were, of an American patrol. 

At daybreak he awoke Smith, and hurried their departure. 
Their way lay through the Neutral Ground, extending north and 
south about thirty miles, between the British and American lines ; 
a beautiful region of forest-clad hills, fertile valleys, and abundant 
streams, but now almost desolated by the scourings of Skinners and 
Cow Boys : the former professing allegiance to the American cause, 
the latter to the British, but both arrant marauders. Houses were 
plundered and dismantled, enclosures broken down, cattle carried 
away, fields laid waste. The roads were grass-grown ; the country 
was mournful, solitary, silent. About two and a half miles from 
Pine's Bridge, on the Croton river, Andre and his companion 
partook of a scanty meal at a farm-house which had recently been 
harried by the Cow Boys. Here they parted. Smith to return 
home, Andr^ to pursue his journey alone to New York. His spirits, 
however, were cheerful ; for, having got beyond the patrols, he 
considered the most perilous part of his route accomplished. 

About six miles beyond Pine's Bridge he came to a place where 
the road forked, the left branch leading toward White Plains, the 
right inclining toward the Hudson. He had originally intended 
to take the left-hand road, the other being said to be infested by 
Cow Boys. These, however, were not to be apprehended by him, 
as they belonged to the lower party or British ; it led, too, more 
directly to New York ; so he turned down it, and took his course 
along the river road. 

He had not proceeded far, when, coming to a place where a 
small stream crossed the road and ran into a woody dell, a man 
stepped out from the trees, levelled a musket, and brought him to 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 407 

a stand, while two other men similarly armed, showed themselves 
prepared to second their comrade. The man who had first stepped 
out wore a Hessian coat. At sight of it, Andre's heart leapt, and 
he felt himself secure. Losing all caution, he exclaimed eagerly : 
" Gentlemen, I hope you belong to our party?" — "What party?" 
was asked. — "The lower party," said Andr^. — "We do," was the 
reply. All reserve was now at an end. Andr^ declared himself 
to be a British officer who had been up the country on particular 
business, and must not be detained a single moment. He drew 
out his watch as he spoke. It was a gold one, and served to 
prove to them that he was what he represented himself, gold 
watches being seldom worn in those days, excepting by persons of 
consequence. 

To his consternation, the supposed Hessian now avowed him- 
self and his companions to be Americans, and told Andr6 he was 
their prisoner ! 

It was even so. The yeomanry of that harassed country had 
turned out in parties to intercept freebooters from the British 
lines. One of these parties, composed of seven men of the neigh- 
borhood, had divided itself. Four took post on a hill above 
Sleepy Hollow to watch the road which crossed the country ; the 
other three, John Paulding, Isaac Van Wart, and David Williams 
by name, stationed themselves on the road which runs parallel to 
the Hudson. Two of them were seated on the grass playing at 
cards to pass away the time, while one mounted guard. 

The one who brought Andr^ to a stand was John Paulding, a 
stout-hearted youngster, who had been repeatedly in arms to repel 
or resent aggressions, and had twice been captured and confined 
in the loathsome military prisons where patriots suffered in New 
York. Both times he had made his escape ; the last time, only 
four days previous to the event of which we are treating. The 
ragged Hessian coat, which had deceived Andr6 and been the 
cause of his betraying himself, had been given to Paulding by one 
of his captors, in exchange for a good yeoman garment of which 
they stripped him. This slight circumstance may have produced 
the whole discovery of the treason. 



408 LIFE OF WASrilNGTON. 

Andr^ was astounded at finding into what hands he had fallen ; 
and how he had betrayed himself by his heedless avowal. But 
recovering his self-possession, he endeavored to pass off his pre- 
vious account of himself as a subterfuge. '' A man must do any- 
thing," said he laughingly, "to get along." He now declared 
himself to be a Continental officer, going down to Dobbs' Ferry to 
get information from below ; so saying, he drew forth and showed 
them the pass of General Arnold. This, in the first instance, would 
have been sufficient, but his unwary tongue had ruined him. The 
suspicions of his captors were roused, and seizing the bridle of his 
horse, they ordered him to dismount and proceeded to search 
him. He wore a round hat, a blue surtout, a crimson close-bodied 
coat, somewhat faded ; the button-holes worked with gold, and 
the buttons covered with gold lace ; a nankeen vest, and small- 
clothes and boots. They obliged him to take off his coat and 
vest, and finding on him nothing to warrant suspicion, were dis- 
posed to let him proceed, when Paulding exclaimed; "Boys, I 
am not satisfied — his boots must come off." 

At this Andr^ changed color. His boots, he said, came off with 
difficulty, and he begged he might not be subjected to the incon- 
venience and delay. His remonstrances were in vain. He was 
obliged to sit down : his boots were drawn off, and the concealed 
papers discovered. Hastily scanning them, Paulding exclaimed, 
" My God ! He is a spy ! " 

He demanded of Andr^ where he had gotten these papers. 

"Of a man at Pine's Bridge, a stranger to me," was the reply. 

While dressing himself, Andr^ endeavored to ransom himself 
from his captors ; rising from one offer to another. He would 
give any sum of money if they would let him go. He would give 
his horse, saddle, bridle, and one hundred guineas, and would 
send them to any place that might be fixed upon. 

Williams asked him if he would not give more. 

He replied, that he would give any reward they might name 
either in goods or money, and would remain with two of their 
party while one went to New York to get it. 



THE DISASTERS OF 17S0. 409 

Here Paulding broke in and declared with an oath, that if he 
would give ten thousand guineas, he should not stir one step. 

The unfortunate Andre now submitted to his fate, and the 
captors set off with their prisoner for North Castle, the nearest 
American post, distant ten or twelve miles. They proceeded 
across a hilly and woody region, part of the way by the road, part 
across fields. One strode in front, occasionally holding the horse 
by the bridle, the others walked on either side. Andre rode on in 
silence, declining to answer further questions until he should come 
before a military officer. About noon, they halted at a farm-house 
where the inhabitants were taking their mid-day repast. The 
worthy housewife, moved by Andre's prepossessing appearance 
and dejected air, kindly invited him to partake. He declined, 
alleging that he had no appetite. Glancing at his gold-laced 
crimson coat, the good dame apologized for her rustic fare. " O 
madam," exclaimed poor Andre, with a melancholy shake of the 
head, " it is all very good — but, indeed, I cannot eat ! " 

This was related to us by a venerable matron, who was present 
on the occasion, a young girl at the time, but who in her old days 
could not recall the scene and the appearance of Andr^ without 
tears. 

The captors with their prisoner having arrived at North Castle, 
Lieutenant-colonel Jameson, who was in command there, recog- 
nized the handwriting of Arnold in the papers found upon Andr^, 
and, perceiving that they were of a dangerous nature, sent them 
off by express to General Washington, at Hartford. 

Andr^, still adhering to his assumed name, begged that the com- 
mander at West Point might be informed that John Anderson, 
though bearing his passport, was detained. Jameson appears to 
have completely lost his head. He wrote to Arnold, stating the 
circumstances of the arrest, and that the papers found upon the 
prisoner had been dispatched by express to the commander-in- 
chief, and at the same time, he sent the prisoner himself, under a 
strong guard, to accompany the letter. 

Shortly afterwards Major Tallmadge, next in command to Jame- 
son, but of a much clearer head, arrived at North Castle, having 



410 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

been absent on duty at White Plains. When the circumstances 
were related to him, he at once suspected treachery on the part 
of Arnold. At his earnest entreaties, an express was sent after the 
officer who had Andr^ in charge, ordering him to bring the latter 
back to North Castle ; but by singular perversity or obtuseness in 
judgment, Jameson neglected to countermand the letter which he 
had written to Arnold. 

When Andr^ was brought back, and was pacing up and down 
the room, Tallmadge saw at once by his air and movements, and 
the mode of turning on his heel, that he was a military man. By 
his advice, and under his escort, the prisoner was conducted to 
Colonel Sheldon's post at Lower Salem, as more secure than North 
Castle. 

Here Andr^, being told that the papers found upon his person 
had been forwarded to Washington, addressed to him immediately 
the following lines : — 

" I beg your Excellency will be persuaded that no alteration in 
the temper of my mind or apprehensions for my safety induces me 
to take the step of addressing you ; but that it is to secure myself 
from the imputation of having assumed a mean character for treach- 
erous purposes or self-interest. ... It is to vindicate my fame 
that I speak, and not to solicit security. 

"The person in your possession is Major John Andr^, adjutant- 
general of the British army. 

"The influence of one commander in the army of his adversary 
is an advantage taken in war. A correspondence for this purpose 
I held, as confidential (in the present instance) with his Excel- 
lency, Sir Henry Clinton. To favor it, I agreed to meet upon 
ground not within the posts of either army a person who was to 
give me intelligence. I came up in the Vt/Ifi/fe man-of-war for 
this effect, and was fetched from the shore to the beach. Being 
there, I was told that the approach of day would prevent my re- 
turn, and that I must be concealed until the next night. I was in 
my regimentals, and had fairly risked my person. 

"Against my stipulation, my intention, and without my knowl- 
edge beforehand, I was conducted within one of your posts. Thus 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 411 

was I betrayed into the vile condition of an enemy within your 
posts. 

" Having avowed myself a British officer, I have nothing to 
reveal but what relates to myself, which is true, on the honor of an 
officer and a gentleman. 

" The request I have made to your Excellency, and I am con- 
scious that I address myself well, is, that in any rigor policy may 
dictate, a decency of conduct towards me may mark, that, though 
unfortunate, I am branded with nothing dishonorable ; as no 
motive could be mine, but the service of my king, and as I was 
involuntarily an impostor." 

This letter he submitted to the perusal of Major Tallmadge, 
who was surprised and agitated at finding the rank and importance 
of the prisoner he had in charge. The letter being dispatched, 
and Andre's pride relieved on a sensitive point, he resumed his 
serenity, apparently unconscious of the awful responsibility of his 
situation. Having a talent for caricature, he even amused him- 
self in the course of the day by making a ludicrous sketch of 
himself and his rustic escort under march, and presenting it to an 
officer in the room with him. ''This," said he gayly, "will give 
you an idea of the style in which I have had the honor to be con- 
ducted to my present abode." 

Arnold's Flight. — On the very day that the treasonable con- 
ference between Arnold and Andr^ took place, on the banks of 
the Haverstraw Bay, Washington had his interview with the French 
officers at Hartford. It led to no important result. Intelligence 
was received that the squadron of the Count de Guichen, on 
which they had relied to give them superiority by sea, had sailed 
for Europe. This disconcerted their plans, and Washington, in 
consequence, set out two or three days sooner than had been 
anticipated on his return to his head-quarters on the Hudson. 
He was accompanied by Lafayette and Knox with their suites. 
On approaching the Hudson, Washington took a more circuitous 
route than the one he had originally intended, striking the river at 
Fish Kill just above the Highlands. Circufnstances detained them 
a night at Fish Kill. Their baggage was sent on to Arnold's quar- 



412 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

ters in the Robinson House, with a message apprising the general 
that they would breakfast there the next day. In the morning 
(September 24th) they were in the saddle before break of day, 
having a ride to make of eighteen miles through the mountains. 
It was a pleasant and animated one. Washington was in excellent 
spirits, and the buoyant marquis, and genial, warm-hearted Knox, 
were companions with whom he was always disposed to unbend. 

When within a mile of the Robinson House, Washington turned 
down a cross-road leading to the banks of the Hudson. Lafayette 
apprised him that he was going out of the way, and hinted that 
Mrs. Arnold must be waiting breakfast for him. " Ah, marquis ! " 
replied he good-humoredly, " you young men are all in love with 
Mrs. Arnold. I see you are eager to be with her as soon as 
possible. Go you and breakfast with her, and tell her not to wait 
for me. I must ride down and examine the redoubts on this side 
of the river, but will be with her shortly." 

The marquis and General Knox, however, turned off and 
accompanied him down to the redoubts, while Colonel Hamilton 
and Lafayette's aide-de-camp, Major James McHenry, continued 
along the main road to the Robinson House, bearing Washington's 
apology, and request that the breakfast might not be retarded. 

The family with the two aides-de-camp sat down to breakfast. 
Mrs. Arnold had arrived but four or five days previously from 
Philadelphia, with her infant child, then about six months old. 
She was bright and amiable as usual. Arnold was silent and 
gloomy. It was an anxious moment with him. This was the day 
appointed for the consummation of the plot, when the enemy's 
ships were to ascend the river. The return of the commander-in- 
chief from the East two days sooner than had been anticipated, 
and his proposed visit to the forts, threatened to disconcert every- 
thing. What might be the consequence Arnold could not conjec- 
ture. In the midst of the repast a horseman alighted at the gate. 
It was the messenger bearing Jameson's letter to Arnold, stating 
the capture of Andr^, and that dangerous papers found on him 
had been forwarded to Washington. 

The mine had exploded beneath Arnold's feet ; yet in this 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 413 

awful moment he gave an evidence of that quickness of mind 
which had won laurels for him when in the path of duty. Con- 
trolling his dismay he informed his guests that he must haste to 
West Point to prepare for the reception of the commander-in-chief. 
His wife followed him from the room. When alone with her up 
stairs, he announced in hurried words that he was a ruined man, 
and must instantly fly for his life ! Overcome by the shock, she 
fell senseless on the floor. Arnold hurried down stairs, sent -one 
of the maids to her assistance, and mounting the horse of the mes- 
senger, which stood saddled at the door, galloped down by what is 
still called Arnold's Path, to the landing-place, where his six-oared 
barge was moored. Throwing himself into it, he ordered his men 
to pufl out into the middle of the river, and then made down with 
all speed for Teller's Point, which divides Haverstraw Bay from 
the Tappan Sea, saying he must be back soon to meet the com- 
mander-in-chief. 

Washington arrived at the Robinson House shortly after the 
flight of the traitor. Being informed that Arnold had gone across 
to West Point to receive him, he took a hasty breakfast and re- 
paired to the fortress, leaving word that he and his suite would 
return to dinner. In crossing the river, he noticed that no salute 
was fired from the fort, nor was there any preparation to receive 
him on his landing. Colonel Lamb, the officer in command, who 
came down to the shore, manifested surprise at seeing him, and 
apologized for this want of military ceremony, by assuring him he 
had not been apprised of his intended visit. 

" Is not General Arnold here? " demanded Washington. 

" No, sir. He has not been here for two days past ; nor have I 
heard from him in that time." 

This was strange and perplexing, but no sinister suspicion 
entered Washington's mind. He remained at the Point through- 
out the morning, inspecting the fortifications. In the meantime,, 
the messenger whom Jameson had dispatched to Hartford with a 
letter covering the papers taken on Andr^, arrived at the Robin- 
son House. He had learnt, while on the way to Hartford, that 
Washington had left that place, whereupon he turned bridle to 



414 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

overtake him, but missed him in consequence of the general's 
change of route. Coming by the lower road, the messenger had 
passed through Salem, where Andr6 was confined, and brought 
with him the letter written by that unfortunate officer to the com- 
mander-in-chief, the purport of which has already been given. 
These letters being represented as of the utmost moment, were 
opened and read by Colonel Hamilton, as Washington's aide-de- 
camp and confidential officer. He maintained silence as to their 
contents ; met Washington, as he and his companions were com- 
ing up from the river, on their return from West Point, spoke to 
him a few words in a low voice, and they retired together into the 
house. Washington w^as far from wearing his usual air of equa- 
nimity when he rejoined his companions. Taking Knox and 
Lafayette aside, he communicated to them the intelligence, and 
placed the papers in their hands. "Whom can we trust now?" 
was his only comment, but it spoke volumes. 

His first idea was to arrest the traitor. Conjecturing the direc- 
tion of his flight, he dispatched Colonel Hamilton on horseback to 
spur with all speed to Verplanck's Point, which commands the 
narrow part of the Hudson, just below the Highlands, with orders 
to the commander to intercept Arnold should he not already have 
passed that post. This done, when dinner was announced, he 
invited the company to table. "Come, gentlemen; since Mrs. 
Arnold is ill, and the general is absent, let us sit down without 
ceremony." The repast was a quiet one, for none but Lafayette 
and Knox, beside the general, knew the purport of the letters just 
received. 

Meanwhile Arnold had passed through the Highlands in safety, 
but there were the batteries at Verplanck's Point yet to fear. 
Fortunately for him, Hamilton, with the order for his arrest, had 
not arrived there. His barge was known by the garrison. A white 
handkerchief displayed gave it the sanction of a flag of truce : it 
was suffered to pass without question, and the traitor effected his 
escape to the Vulture, anchored a few miles below. 

Colonel Hamilton returned to the Robinson House and reported 
the escape of the traitor. He brought two letters also to Wash- 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 415 

ington, which had been sent on shore from the Vulture, under a 
flag of truce. One was from Arnold, of which the following is a 
transcript : — 

" Sir, — The heart which is conscious of its own rectitude, can- 
not attempt to palliate a step which the world may censure as 
wrong ; I have ever acted from a principle of love to my country, 
since the commencement of the present unhappy contest between 
Great Britain and the colonies ; the same principle of love to my 
country actuates my present conduct, however it may appear 
inconsistent to the world, who seldom judge right of any man's 
actions. 

" I ask no favor for myself. I have too often experienced the 
ingratitude of my country to attempt it ; but, from the known 
humanity of your Excellency, I am induced to ask your protection 
for Mrs. Arnold from every insult and injury that a mistaken ven- 
geance of my country may expose her to. It ought to fall only on 
me ; she is as good and as innocent as an angel, and is incapable 
of doing wrong. I beg she may be permitted to return to her 
friends in Philadelphia, or to come to me as she may choose ; 
from your Excellency I have no fears on her account, but she may 
suffer from the mistaken fury of the country." 

The other letter was from Colonel Beverley Robinson, interced- 
ing for the release of Andre, on the plea that he was on shore 
under the sanction of a flag of truce, at the request of Arnold. 

Notwithstanding Washington's apparent tranquilhty and real 
self-possession, it was a time of appalling distrust. How far the 
treason had extended ; who else might be imj^licated in it, was 
unknown. Arnold had escaped, and was actually on board of the 
Vulture ; he knew everything about the condition of the posts : 
might he not persuade the enemy, in the present weak state of 
the garrisons, to attempt a coup de main ? Washington instantly, 
therefore, began making preparations for an obstinate defence, 
and wrote to Greene, who, in his absence, commanded the army 
at Tappan, urging him to put the left division in motion as soon 
as possible for King's Ferry, where they would be met with further 
orders. "The division/' writes he, " will come on light, leaving 



416 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

their heavy baggage to follow. You will also hold all the troops 
ill readiness to move on the shortest notice. Transactions of a 
most interesting nature, and such as will astonish you, have been 
just discovered." 

In the meantime, Mrs. Arnold remained in her room in a state 
bordering on frenzy. Arnold might well confide in the humanity 
and delicacy of Washington in respect to her. He regarded her 
with the sincerest commiseration, acquitting her of all previous 
knowledge of her husband's guilt. On remitting to her, by one 
of his aides-de-camp, the letter of her husband, written from on 
board of the Vulture, he informed her that he had done all that 
depended upon himself to have him arrested, but not having 
succeeded, he experienced a pleasure in assuring her of his 
safety. 

During the brief time she remained at the Robinson House, she 
was treated with the utmost deference and delicacy, but soon set 
off, under a passport of Washington, for her father's house in 
Philadelphia. 

Execution of Andre. — On the 26th of September, the day after 
the treason had been revealed to Washington, Andre arrived at 
the Robinson House, having been brought on in the night, under 
escort of Major Tallmadge. Washington made many inquiries of 
the major, but declined to have the prisoner brought into his pres- 
ence, apparently entertaining a strong idea of his moral obliquity, 
from the nature of the scheme in which he had been engaged, 
and the circumstances under which he had been arrested. 

The same evening he transmitted him to West Point, and shortly 
afterwards, Joshua Smith, who had hkewise been arrested. Still, 
not considering them secure even there, he determined on the fol- 
lowing day to send them on to the camp. In a letter to Greene 
he writes : " They will be under an escort of horse, and I wish 
you to have separate houses in camp ready for their reception, in 
which they may be kept perfectly secure ; and also strong, trusty 
guards, trebly officered, that a part may be constantly in the room 
with them. They have not been permitted to be together, and 
must be kept apart. I would wish the room for Mr. Andr^ to be 



THE DISASTERS OF 1780. 417 

a decent one, and that he may be treated with civility ; but that 
he may be so guarded as to preclude a possibility of his escaping." 

The capture of Andre caused a great sensation at New York. 
He was universally popular with the army, and an especial favorite 
of Sir Henry Clinton. The latter addressed a letter to Washington 
on the 29th, claiming the release of Andre on similar ground to 
that urged by Colonel Robinson — his having visited Arnold at 
the particular request of that general officer, and under the sanc- 
tion of a flag of truce ; and his having been stopped while travel- 
ling under Arnold's passports. The same letter enclosed one 
addressed by Arnold to Sir Henry, and intended as a kind of 
certificate of Andre's innocence. Neither the official demand of 
Sir Henry Clinton, nor the certificate of Arnold, had any effect on 
the steady mind of Washington. He referred the case to a board 
of general officers, convened on the 29th of September, the day 
after his arrival at Tappan. It was composed of six major-gen- 
erals, Greene, Stirling, St. Clair, Lafayette, Robert Howe, and 
Steuben ; and eight brigadiers. Parsons, James Clinton, Knox, 
Glover, Paterson, Hand, Huntington, and Stark. General Greene, 
who was well versed in military law, and was a man of sound head 
and kind heart, was president, and Colonel John Lawrence, judge 
advocate-general. Upon Andre's frank confession, without the 
trouble of examining a witness, the board made up their report. 

It briefly stated the circumstances of the case, and concluded 
with the opinion of the court, that Major Andr^ ought to be con- 
sidered a spy from the enemy, and, agreeably to the law and usage 
of nations, ought to suffer death. In a conversation with Hamilton, 
Andr^ acknowledged the candor, liberality, and indulgence with 
which the board had conducted themselves in their painful inquiry. 
He met the result with manly firmness, and even in this situation 
of gathering horrors, thought of others more than of himself. 
"There is only one thing that disturbs my tranquillity," said he to 
Hamilton. " Sir Henry Clinton has been too good to me ; he has 
been lavish of his kindness. I am bound to him by too many 
obligations, and dove him too well, to bear the thought that he 
should reproach himself, or others should reproach him, on the 



418 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

supposition of my having conceived myself obliged, by his instruc- 
tions, to run the risk I did. I would not for the world leave a 
sting in his mind that should embitter his future days." He could 
scarce finish the sentence, bursting into tears, in spite of his efforts 
to suppress them, and with difficulty collected himself enough 
afterwards to add, " I wish to be permitted to assure him that I 
did not act under this impression, but submitted to a necessity 
imposed upon me, as contrary to my own inclination, as to his 
wishes." 

His request was comphed with, and he wrote a letter to Sir 
Henry Clinton to the above purport. This letter accompanied 
one from Washington to Sir Henry Chnton, stating the report of 
the board of inquiry. " From these proceedings," observes he, 
" it is evident that Major Andr^ was employed in the execution of 
measures very foreign to the objects of flags of truce, and such as 
they were never meant to authorize in the most distant degree ; 
and this gentleman confessed with the greatest candor, in the 
course of his examination, that it was impossible for him to sup- 
pose that he came on shore under the sanction of a flag." 

Captain Aaron Ogden, a worthy officer of the New Jersey line, 
was selected by Washington to bear these dispatches to the enemy's 
post at Paulus Hook, thence to be conveyed across the Hudson to 
New York. Before his departure, he called by Washington's 
request on the Marquis de Lafayette, who gave him instructions 
to sound the officer commanding at that post whether Sir Henry 
Clinton might not be willing to deliver up Arnold in exchange for 
Andr6. Ogden arrived at Paulus Hook in the evening, and made 
the suggestion, as if incidentally, in the course of conversation. 
The officer demanded if he had any authority from Washington 
for such an intimation. " I have no such assurance from General 
Washington," replied he, " but I am prepared to say, that if such 
a proposal were made, I believe it would be accepted, and Major 
Andr^ set at liberty." The officer crossed the river before morn- 
ing, and communicated the matter to Sir Henry Clinton, but the 
latter instantly rejected the expedient as incompatible with honor 
and military principle, 



THE DISASTERS OF 17S0. 419 

The execution was appointed to take place on the ist of 
October, but was postponed till the next day, that due heed might 
be given to the arguments of Sir Henry Clinton, who sent General 
Robertson to intercede for the prisoner. On the ist of October 
Robertson had an interview with Greene at Dobbs' Ferry, but 
nothing came of it. A petition from Andre, that he might be shot 
rather than hanged, was duly considered and rejected ; and on the 
2d of October the unfortunate young officer was led to the gallows. 
His remains were interred near the place of his execution at 
Tappan ; whence in 182 1 they were removed to England and 
buried in Westminster Abbey. 

Had Washington consulted his feelings merely, the appeals in 
behalf of Andre might not have been in vain. Washington had 
no popular censure to apprehend should he exercise indulgence, 
for the popular feehng was with the prisoner. But he had a high 
and tenacious sense of the duties and responsibilities of his position, 
and never more than in this trying moment, when he had to 
elevate himself above the contagious sympathies of those around 
him, dismiss all personal considerations, and regard the peculiar 
circumstances of the case. The long course of insidious operations 
which had been pursued to undermine the loyalty of one of his 
most trusted officers ; the greatness of the evil which the treason 
would have effected, if successful ; the uncertainty how far the 
enemy had carried, or might still be carrying, their scheme of 
corruption, — for anonymous intimations spoke of treachery in 
other quarters, — all these considerations pointed this out as a 
case in which a signal example was required. 

And what called for particular indulgence to the agent, if not 
instigator of this enormous crime, who had thus been providentially 
detected in disguise, and with the means of its consummation 
concealed upon his person ? It has been alleged in Andre's be- 
half, as a mitigating circumstance, that he was involuntarily a spy. 
But it certainly should not soften our view of his mission, that he 
embarked in it without intending to subject himself to danger. A 
spice of danger would have given it a spice of heroism, however 
spurious. When the rendezvous was first projected, he sought, 



420 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

through an indirect channel, to let Arnold know that he would 
come out with a flag. If an interview had taken place under that 
sacred protection, and a triumphant treason had been the result, 
what a brand it would have aflixed to Andre's name, that he had 
prostituted a flag of truce to such an end. 

We dwell on these matters, not to check the sentiment of 
sympathy awakened in Andre's behalf by his personal qualities, 
but to vindicate the fair name of Washington from that " blot '* 
which some have attempted to cast upon it, because, in exercising 
his stern duty as protector of the public weal, during a time of 
secret treason, he listened to pohcy and justice rather than mercy. 
In doing so, he took counsel with some of his general oflicers. 
Their opinions coincided with his own — that under present cir- 
cumstances, it was important to give a signal warning to the 
enemy, by a rigorous observance of the rules of war and the usages 
of nations in like cases. 

Joshua Smith was tried by a court-martial, on a charge of par- 
ticipating in the treason, but was acquitted, no proof appearing of 
his having had any knowledge of Arnold's plot, though it was 
thought he must have been conscious of something wrong in an 
interview so mysteriously conducted. 

Arnold was now made brigadier-general in the British service. 
What reward he was to have received had his treason been suc- 
cessful, is not known ; but ^6315 were paid to him, as a compen- 
sation for losses which he professed to have suffered in going over 
to the enemies of his country. The vflest culprit, however, shrinks 
from sustaining the obloquy of his crimes. Shortly after his arrival 
in New York, Arnold published an address to the inhabitants of 
America, in which he endeavored to vindicate his conduct. He 
alleged that he had originally taken up arms merely to aid in 
obtaining a redress of grievances. He had considered the Decla- 
ration of Independence precipitate, and the reasons for it obviated 
by the subsequent proffers of the British government; and he 
inveighed against Congress for rejecting those offers, without sub- 
mitting them to the people. Finally, the treaty with France, a 
proud, ancientj and crafty foe, the enemy of the Protestant faith 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORK TOWN. 421 

and of real liberty, had completed, he said, the measure of his 
indignation, and determined him to abandon a cause sustained by 
iniquity and controlled by usurpers. 

Besides this address, he issued a proclamation inviting the offi- 
cers and soldiers of the American army, who had the real interest 
of their country at heart, and who were determined to be no 
longer the tools and dupes of Congress, and of France, to rally 
under the royal standard, and fight for true American liberty; 
holding out promises of large bounties and liberal subsistence, 
with compensation for all the implements and accoutrements of 
war they might bring with them. 

Both the address and the proclamation were regarded by 
Americans with the contempt they merited. 

At the end of November the army went into winter- quarters ; 
the Pennsylvania line in the neighborhood of Morristown, the 
Jersey line about Pompton, the New England troops at West 
Point, and the other posts of the Highlands ; and the New York 
line was stationed at Albany, to guard against any invasion from 
Canada. 

The French army remained stationed at Newport, excepting the 
Duke of Lauzun's legion, which was cantoned at Lebanon in Con- 
necticut. Washington's head-quarters were established at New 
Windsor on the Hudson. 

We will now turn to the South to note the course of affairs in 
that quarter during the last few months. 

§ lo. Second Great Triumph — Yorktown. 

Battle of King's Mountain. — The defeat of General Gates at 
Camden had withered the laurels snatched at Saratoga. As in the 
one instance he had received exaggerated praise, so in the other, 
he suffered undue censure. The sudden annihilation of an army 
from which so much had been expected, and the retreat of the 
general before the field was absolutely lost, appeared to demand 
a strict investigation. Congress therefore passed a resolution 
(October 5th), requiring Washington to order a court of inquiry 
into the conduct of Gates as commander of the Southern army, 



422 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and to appoint some other officer to the command until the in- 
quiry should be made. Washington at once selected Greene for 
the important trust, the well-tried officer whom he would originally 
have chosen, had his opinion been consulted, when Congress so 
unadvisedly gave the command to Gates. In the present instance 
his choice was in concurrence with the expressed wishes of the 
delegates of the three Southern states, conveyed to him by one of 
their number. 

Cornwallis having, as he supposed, entirely crushed the " rebel 
cause " in South Carolina, by the defeats of Gates and Sumter, 
remained for some time at Camden, detained by the excessive 
heat of the weather and the sickness of part of his troops, broken 
down by the hardships of campaigning under a southern sun. 
While awaiting supplies and reinforcements, he detached Major 
Patrick Ferguson to the western confines of North Carolina. This 
resolute partisan had with him his own corps of light infantry, and 
a body of royalist militia of his own training, in all about twelve 
hundred men, noted for alertness, and unincumbered with baggage 
or artillery. 

His orders were to scour the mountain country between the 
Catawba and the Yadkin, harass the Whigs, inspirit the Tories, 
and embody the militia under the royal banner. This done, he 
was to repair to Charlotte, the capital of Mecklenburg County, 
where he would find Lord Cornwallis, who intended to make it his 
rendezvous. Should he, in the course of his tour, be threatened 
by a superior force, he was immediately to return to the main 
army. No great opposition, however, was apprehended, the 
Americans being considered totally broken up and dispirited. 

The second week in September Cornwallis set out for North 
CaroHna. In the subjugation of that province, he counted on the 
co-operation of the troops which Sir Henry Clinton was to send to 
the lower part of Virginia. Cornwallis took post at Charlotte, 
where he had given rendezvous to Ferguson. The surrounding 
country was wild and rugged, and covered with close woods. All 
attempts at foraging were worse than useless. The plantations 
were small and afforded scanty supplies. The inhabitants were 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORK TOWN. 423 

stanch Whigs, with the pugnacious spirit of the old Covenanters. 
Instead of remaining at home and receiving the king's money in 
exchange for their produce, they turned out with their rifles, 
stationed themselves in covered places, and fired upon the foraging 
parties. Convoys of provisions from Camden had to fight their 
way. Messengers were shot down and their dispatches seized. 
This was a sore annoyance to Cornwallis, depriving him of all 
intelligence concerning the movements of Ferguson, whose arrival 
he was anxiously awaiting. That doughty partisan officer was on 
his way to join Cornwallis when a chance for a signal exploit pre- 
sented itself. An American force under Colonel Elijah Clarke of 
Georgia, was retreating to the mountain districts of North Carolina, 
after an unsuccessful attack upon the British post at Augusta. 
Ferguson resolved to cut off their retreat. Turning towards the 
mountains, he made his way through a rugged wilderness and took 
post at Gilbert-town, a small frontier village of log-houses. He 
was encouraged to this step by the persuasion that there was no 
force in that part of the country able to look him in the face. He 
had no idea that the behavior of his followers had arrayed the very 
wilderness against him. The scattered inhabitants of the moun- 
tains assembled without noise or warning ; a hardy race, half 
huntsmen, half herdsmen, inhabiting deep narrow valleys, and 
fertile slopes, adapted to grazing, watered by the coldest of springs 
and brightest of streams, and embosomed in mighty forest trees. 
Being subject to inroads and surprisals from the Indians, a tacit 
league existed among them for mutual defence, and it only needed, 
as in the present instance, an alarm to be circulated through their 
settlements by swift messengers, to bring them at once to the 
point of danger. Now from the upland regions of Kentucky, 
Virginia, Tennessee, and the Carolinas, these bold backwoodsmen 
assembled to the number of three thousand, led by their militia 
colonels, Campbell, Shelby, and Williams, Cleveland, McDowell, 
and Sevier. Threatened by a force so superior in numbers and 
fierce in hostility, Ferguson remembered the instructions of Corn- 
wallis, and breaking up his quarters, he pushed for the British 



424 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

army, sending messengers ahead to apprise his lordship of the 
danger. Unfortunately for him, his missives were intercepted. 

Gilbert-town had not long been vacated by Ferguson and his 
troops, when the motley host of mountaineers thronged in. The 
greater part were on horseback. Some were in homespun garb ; 
but the most part in hunting-shirts, occasionally decorated with 
colored fringe and tassels. Each man had his long rifle and hunt- 
ing-knife, his wallet, or knapsack and blanket, and either a buck's 
tail or sprig of evergreen in his hat. Here and there an officer 
appeared in the Continental uniform of blue and buff, but most 
preferred the half-Indian hunting-dress. There was neither tent 
nor equipage, neither baggage nor wagon to encumber the move- 
ments of that extemporaneous host. Prompt warriors of the 
wilderness, with them it was " seize the weapon — spring into the 
saddle — and away ! " In going into action, it was their practice 
to dismount and tie their horses so as to have them at hand for 
use after the battle, either to pursue a flying enemy, or make their 
own escape by dint of hoof. 

There was a clamor of tongues for a time at Gilbert-town ; 
groups on horseback and foot in every part, holding hasty council. 
Being told that Ferguson had retreated by the Cherokee road 
toward North Carolina, about nine hundred of the hardiest and 
best mounted set out in urgent pursuit ; leaving those who were 
on foot, or weakly mounted, to follow as fast as possible. Colonel 
William Campbell, of Virginia, having come from the greatest 
distance, was allowed to have command of the whole party ; but 
there was not much order or subordination. Each colonel led 
his own men in his own way. A rapid and irregular march was 
kept up all night in murky darkness and through a heavy rain. 
About daybreak they crossed Broad river, where an attack was 
apprehended. Not finding the enemy, they halted, lit their fires, 
made their morning's meal and took a brief repose. By nine 
o'clock they were again on the march. The rainy night had been 
succeeded by a bright October morning, and all were in high 
spirits, Ferguson, they learnt, had taken the road toward King's 
Mountain, about twelve miles distant. When within three miles 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORKTOWN. 425 

of it, their scouts brought in word that he had taken post on its 
summit. The officers now held a short consultation on horseback, 
and then proceeded. The position taken by Ferguson was a strong 
one. King's Mountain rises out of a broken country, and is 
detached, on the north, from inferior heights by a deep valley, so 
as to resemble an insulated promontory about half a mile in length, 
with sloping sides, excepting on the north. The mountain was 
covered for the most part with lofty forest trees, free from under- 
wood, interspersed with boulders and masses of gray rock. The 
forest was sufficiently open to give free passage to horsemen. As 
the Americans drew nearer, they could occasionally, through open- 
ings of the woodland, descry the glittering of arms along a level 
ridge, forming the crest of King's Mountain. This, Ferguson had 
made his stronghold ; boasting that " if all the rebels out of hell 
should attack him, they could not drive him from it." 

Dismounting at a small stream which runs through a ravine, the 
Americans picketed their horses or tied them to the branches of 
the trees, and gave them in charge of a small guard. They then 
formed themselves into three divisions of nearly equal size, and 
prepared to storm the heights on three sides. Campbell, seconded 
by Shelby, was to lead the centre division ; Sevier with McDowell 
the right, and Cleveland and Williams the left. The divisions were 
to scale the mountain as nearly as possible at the same time. The 
fighting directions were in frontier style. When once in action, 
every one must act for himself. The men were not to wait for the 
word of command, but to take good aim and fire as fast as possi- 
ble. When they could no longer hold their ground, they were to 
get behind trees, or retreat a little, and return to the fight, but 
never to go quite off. 

Campbell allowed time for the flanking divisions to move to the 
right and left along the base of the mountain, and take their 
proper distances; he then pushed up in front with the centre 
division. About four o'clock Campbell arrived within rifle distance 
of the crest of the mountain, whence a sheeted fire of musketry 
was opened upon him. He instantly deployed his men, posted 
them behind trees, and returned the fire with deadly effect. Per- 



426 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

guson, exasperated at being thus hunted into this mountain fast- 
ness, had been chafing in his rocky lair and meditating a furious 
sally. He now rushed out with his regulars, made an impetuous 
charge with the bayonet, and dislodging his assailants from their 
coverts, began to drive them down the mountain. He had not 
proceeded far, when a flanking fire was opened by one of the 
other divisions ; facing about and attacking this he was again 
successful, when a third fire was opened from another quarter. 
Thus, as fast as one division gave way before the bayonet, another 
came to its relief; while those who had given way rallied and 
returned to the charge. The nature of the ground was more 
favorable to the rifle than the bayonet, and this was a kind of 
warfare in which the frontier men were at home. The elevated 
position of the enemy also was in favor of the Americans, as it 
secured them from the danger of their own cross-fire. Ferguson 
found that he was completely in the hunter's toils, beset on every 
side ; but he stood bravely at bay, until the ground around him 
was strewed with the killed and wounded, picked off by the fatal 
rifle. His men were at length broken, and retreated in confusion 
along the ridge. He galloped from place to place endeavoring to 
rally them, when a rifle ball brought him to the ground, and his 
white horse was seen careering down the mountain without a rider. 

This closed the bloody fight ; Ferguson's second in command, 
seeing all further resistance hopeless, hoisted a white flag, beat a 
parley, and surrendered at discretion. One hundred and fifty of 
the enemy had fallen, and as many been wounded ; while of the 
Americans, but twenty were killed, though a considerable number 
were wounded. Among those slain was Colonel James Williams, 
who had commanded the troops of Ninety-Six, and proved him- 
self one of the most daring of the partisan leaders. 

Eight hundred and ten men were taken prisoners, one hundred 
of whom were British regulars, the rest loyalists. The rancor 
awakened by civil war was shown in the treatment of some of the 
prisoners. A court-martial was held the day after the battle, and 
a number of Tory prisoners who had been bitter in their hostility 
to the American cause, and flagitious in their persecution of their 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH -YORKTOWN. 427 

countrymen, were hanged. This was to revenge the death of 
American prisoners hanged at Camden and elsewhere. 

The army of mountaineers and frontier men, thus fortuitously 
congregated, did not attempt to follow up their signal blow. They 
had no general scheme, no plan of campaign ; it was the sponta- 
neous rising of the sons of the soil, to revenge it on its invaders, 
and, having effected their purpose, they returned in triumph to 
their homes. They were little aware of the importance of their 
achievement. The battle of King's Mountain, inconsiderable as 
it was in the numbers engaged, turned the tide of Southern warfare. 
The destruction of Ferguson and his corps gave a complete check 
to the expedition of Cornwallis. He began to fear for the safety 
of South Carolina, liable to such sudden irruptions from the 
mountains ; lest, while he was facing to the north, these hordes of 
stark-riding warriors might throw themselves behind him, and 
produce a popular combustion in the province he had left. He 
resolved, therefore, to return with all speed to that province and 
provide for its security. 

On the 14th of October he commenced his retrograde and 
mortifying march, conducting it in the night, and with such hurry 
and confusion, that nearly twenty wagons, laden with baggage and 
supplies, were lost. As he proceeded, the rainy season set in ; 
the brooks and rivers became swollen, and almost impassable ; the 
roads deep and miry ; provisions and forage scanty. Sickness 
attacked the troops. Lord Cornwallis himself was seized with a 
bilious fever, which obliged him to halt two days in the Catawba 
settlement, and afterwards to be conveyed in a wagon, giving up 
the command to Lord Rawdon. 

In the course of this desolate march, the British suffered as 
usual from the vengeance of an outraged country, being fired upon 
from behind trees and other coverts by the yeomanry; their 
sentries shot down at their encampments ; their foraging parties 
cut off. "The enemy," writes Lord Rawdon, "are mostly mounted 
militia, not to be overtaken by our infantry, nor to be safely pur- 
sued in this strong country by our cavalry." For two weeks were 
they toiling on with the very elements arrayed against them, until 



428 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

after fording the Catawba where it was six hundred yards wide, 
they arrived at Winnsborough, in South Carolina. Hence, Lord 
CornwalHs wrote on the 24th of October to Brigadier-general 
Leslie — who was at that time in the Chesapeake, with the force 
detached by Sir Henry Clinton for a descent upon Virginia — 
suggesting the expediency of his advancing to South Carolina, for 
the purpose of co-operation with his lordship. In the meantime 
CornwalHs remained at Winnsborough ; a central position, where 
he might cover the country from partisan incursions, obtain forage 
and supplies, and await the co-operation of General Leslie. 

Marion and Sumter. — The victory at King's Mountain had set 
the partisan spirit throughout the country in a blaze. Francis 
Marion was soon in the field. He had been made a brigadier- 
general by Governor Rutledge, but his brigade, as it was called, 
was formed of neighbors and friends, and was continually fluctu- 
ating in numbers, and often numbered less than a hundred men. 
Marion was nearly fifty years of age, small of stature, hardy and 
vigorous ; brave but not braggart, never avoiding danger, but 
never rashly seeking it ; taciturn and abstemious ; a strict disci- 
plinarian ; careful of the lives of his men, but little mindful of his 
own life ; just in his dealings, free from everything selfish or mer- 
cenary, and incapable of a meanness. He had his haunts and 
strongholds in the morasses of the Pedee and Black rivers. His 
men were hardy and abstemious as himself; they ate their meat 
without salt, often subsisted on potatoes, were scantily clad, and 
almost destitute of blankets. Marion was full of stratagems and 
expedients. Sallying forth from his morasses, he would overrun 
the lower districts, pass the Santee, beat up the small posts in 
the vicinity of Charleston, cut up the communication between that 
city and Camden ; and having struck some signal blow, would 
instantly retreat into his fenny fastnesses. Hence the British nick- 
named him the Swamp Fox, but those of his countrymen who 
knew his courage, his loftiness of spirit and spotless integrity, con- 
sidered him the Bayard of the South. 

Tarleton undertook to draw the swamp fox from his cover. He 
marched cautiously down the east bank of the Wateree with a com- 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORK TOWN. 429 

pact body of dragoons and infantry. The fox kept close ; he saw 
that the enemy was too strong for him. Tarleton now changed 
his plan. By day he broke up his force into small detachments or 
patrols, giving them orders to keep near enough to each other to 
render mutual support if attacked, and to gather together at night. 
The artifice had its effect. Marion sallied forth from his covert 
just before daybreak to attack one of these detachments, when, to 
his surprise, he found himself close upon the British camp. Per- 
ceiving the snare that had been spread for him, he made a rapid 
retreat. A close pursuit took place. For seven hours Marion was 
hunted from one swamp and fastness to another ; several stragglers 
of his band were captured, and Tarleton was in strong hope of 
bringing him into action, when an express came spurring from 
Cornwallis, calling for the immediate services of himself and his 
dragoons in another quarter. 

Sumter was again in the field ! That indefatigable partisan 
having recruited a strong party in the mountainous country, to 
which he retreated after his defeat on the Wateree, had reap- 
peared on the west side of the Santee, repulsed a British party 
sent against him, killing its leader; then, crossing Broad river, 
had effected a junction with other partisan bodies, and now men- 
aced the British posts in the district of Ninety-Six. It was this 
danger which called Tarleton off from beleaguering Marion. Ad- 
vancing with his accustomed celerity, he thought to surprise Sumter 
on the Ennoree river. A deserter apprised the latter of his danger. 
He pushed across the river, but was hotly pursued, and his rear- 
guard roughly handled. He now made for the Tyger river, noted 
for turbulence and rapidity ; once beyond this, he might disband 
his followers in the woods. Tarleton, to prevent his passing it 
unmolested, spurred forward in advance of his main body with 
one hundred and seventy dragoons and eighty mounted men of 
the infantry. Before five o'clock (November 20) his advance 
guard overtook and charged the rear of the Americans, who re- 
treated to the main body. Sumter finding it impossible to cross 
Tyger river in safety, and being informed that the enemy were 
without infantry or cannon, took post on Black Stock Hill, with a 



430 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

rivulet and rail fence in front, the Tyger river in the rear and on 
the right flank, and a large log barn on the left. The barn was 
turned into a fortress, and a part of the force stationed in it to fire 
through the apertures between the logs. 

Tarleton halted on an opposite height to await the arrival of his 
infantry, and part of his men dismounted to ease their horses. 
Sumter seized this moment for an attack. He was driven back 
after some sharp fighting. The enemy pursued, but were severely 
galled by the fire from the log barn. Enraged at seeing his men 
shot down, Tarleton charged with his cavalry, but found it impos- 
sible to dislodge the Americans from their rustic fortress. At the 
approach of night he fell back to join his infantry, leaving the 
ground strewed with his killed and wounded. The latter were 
treated with great humanity by Sumter. The loss of the Americans 
was only three killed and four wounded. Sumter, who had re- 
ceived a severe wound in the breast, remained several hours on 
the field of action ; but, understanding the enemy would be 
powerfully reinforced in the morning, he crossed the Tyger river 
in the night. He was then placed on a litter between two horses, 
and thus conducted across the country by a few faithful adherents. 
The rest of his little army dispersed themselves through the woods. 
Tarleton, finding his enemy had disappeared, claimed the credit 
of a victory ; but those who considered the affair rightly declared 
that he had received a severe check. 

Greene takes Command in the South. — While the attention of 
the enemy was thus engaged by the enterprises of Sumter and 
Marion and their swamp warriors. General Gates was gathering 
together the scattered fragments of his army at Hillsborough. When 
all were collected, his whole force, exclusive of militia, did not ex- 
ceed fourteen hundred men. It was, as he said, " rather a shadow 
than a substance." His troops, disheartened by defeat, were in 
a forlorn state, without clothing, without pay, and sometimes with- 
out provisions. Destitute of tents, they constructed hovels of 
fence-rails, poles, brush-wood, and stalks of Indian corn, the offi- 
cers faring no better than the men. 

On the retreat of Cornwallis from Charlotte, Gates advanced to 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORKTOWN. 431 

that place to make it his winter-quarters. Huts were ordered to 
be built, and a regular encampment was commenced. Gates's 
vanity was completely cut down by his late reverses. He had lost, 
too, the confidence of his officers, and was unable to maintain 
discipline among his men. To add to his depression of spirits, 
he received the melancholy intelligence of the death of an only 
son, and, while yet writhing under the blow, there came official 
dispatches informing him of his being superseded in command. 
A letter from Washington accompanied them, sympathizing with 
him in his domestic misfortunes, and adverting with peculiar deli- 
cacy to his reverses in battle. The effect of this letter was over- 
powering. Gates was found walking about his room in the 
greatest agitation, pressing the letter to his lips, breaking forth into 
ejaculations of gratitude. 

General Greene arrived at Charlotte, on the 2d of December. 
On his way from the North he had made arrangements for sup- 
plies from the different states ; and had left Baron Steuben 
in Virginia to defend that state and procure and send on rein- 
forcements and stores for the Southern army. On the day follow- 
ing his arrival Greene took formal command. The delicacy with 
which he conducted himself towards his unfortunate predecessor 
is said to have been " edifying to the army." Gates was sensibly 
affected and comforted by this kind treatment, and retired with a 
lightened heart to his farm in Berkeley County, Virginia. 

The whole force at Charlotte, when Greene took command, did 
not much exceed twenty-three hundred men, and more than half 
of them were militia. It had been broken in spirit by the recent 
defeat. The officers had fallen into habits of negligence ; the 
soldiers were loose and disorderly, and prone to relieve their 
necessities by plundering the inhabitants. Greene's letters writ- 
ten at the time, abound with military aphorisms suggested by 
the squalid scene around him. " There must be either pride or 
principle," said he, " to make a soldier. No man will think him- 
self bound to fight the battles of a state that leaves him perishing 
for Avant of covering ; nor can you inspire a soldier with the senti- 
ment of pride, while his situation renders him an object of pity, 



432 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

rather than of envy. Good feeling is the first principle of good 
service. It is impossible to preserve discipline where troops are 
in want of everything — to attempt severity will only thin the 
ranks by a more hasty desertion." 

The first care of General Greene was to reorganize his army. 
He went to work quietly but resolutely : called no councils of 
war; communicated his plans and intentions to few, and such 
only as were able and willing to aid in executing them. His efforts 
were successful ; the army soon began to assume what he termed 
a military complexion. He was equally studious to promote har- 
mony among his officers, of whom a number were young, gallant, 
and intelligent. It was his delight to have them at his genial but 
simple table, where parade and restraint were banished, and 
pleasant and instructive conversation was promoted ; which, next 
to reading, was his great enjoyment. The manly benignity of his 
manners diffused itself round his board, and a common sentiment 
of affection for their chief united the young men in a kind of 
brotherhood. 

Finding the country round Charlotte exhausted by repeated 
foragings, he separated the army into two divisions. One, about 
one thousand strong, was commanded by Brigadier-general Mor- 
gan, of rifle renown, and was composed of four hundred Conti- 
nental infantry, under Lieutenant-colonel Howard of the Maryland 
line, five hundred Virginia militia, and one hundred dragoons, 
under Lieutenant- colonel William Washington, a distant cousin of 
the commander-in-chief. With these, Morgan was detached towards 
the district of Ninety-Six, in South Carolina, with orders to 
take a position near the confluence of the Pacolet and Broad 
rivers, and assemble the militia of the country. With the other 
division, Greene made a toilful march through a barren country 
to Hicks' Creek, on the east side of the Pedee river, opposite 
the Cheraw Hills. There he posted himself, on the 26th, partly 
to discourage the enemy from attempting to possess themselves 
of Cross Creek, which would give them command of the greatest 
part of the provisions of the lower country — partly to form a 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORK TOWN. 433 

camp of repose ; '^ and no army," writes he, " ever wanted one 
more, the troops having totally lost their disciphne." 

" I will not pain your Excellency," writes he to Washington, 
" with further accounts of the wants and sufferings of this army ; 
but I am not without great apprehension of its entire dissolution, 
unless the commissary's and quartermaster's departments can be 
rendered more competent to the demands of the service. Nor 
are the clothing and hospital departments upon a better footing. 
Not a shilling in the pay chest, nor a prospect of any for months 
to come. This is really making bricks without straw." 

While Greene was writing these lines, another hostile expedition 
was on its way southward from New York. Sir Henry Clinton had 
received information that the troops already mentioned as being 
under Leslie in the Chesapeake, had, by orders from Cornwallis, 
sailed for Charleston, to reinforce his lordship ; and this fresh de- 
tachment was to take their place in Virginia. It was composed of 
British, German, and Tory troops, about seventeen hundred strong, 
and was commanded by Benedict Arnold, now a brigadier-general 
in His Majesty's service. He was to make an incursion into Vir- 
ginia, destroy the public magazines, assemble and arm the loyalists, 
and hold himself ready to co-operate with Lord Cornwallis. 

As Washington beheld one hostile armament after another wing- 
ing its way to the South, and received applications from that quar- 
ter for assistance, which he had not the means to furnish, it became 
painfully apparent to him that the efforts to carry on the war had 
exceeded the natural capabilities of the country. Its widely dif- 
fused population and the composition and temper of some of its 
people, rendered it difficult to draw together its resources. Com- 
merce was almost extinct ; there was not sufficient natural wealth 
on which to found a revenue ; paper currency had depreciated 
through want of funds for its redemption, until it was nearly worth- 
less. The mode of supplying the army by assessing a proportion 
of the productions of the earth had proved ineffectual, oppressive, 
and productive of an alarming opposition. Domestic loans yielded 
but trifling assistance. The patience of the army was nearly ex- 
hausted. In January, 1781, the dissatisfaction of the Pennsylvania 



434 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and New Jersey troops, encamped at Morristovvn and Pompton, 
found expression in an insurrection which, for a time, spread 
alarm among the friends of American hberty, and excited the 
highest hopes of its foes. 

In the midst of such disheartening difficulties, a great cause of 
satisfaction to Washington was the ratification of the articles of 
confederation between the states, which took place not long after- 
ward. A set of articles had been submitted to Congress by Dr. 
Franklin, as far back as 1775. A form had been prepared and 
digested by a committee in 1776, and agreed upon, with some 
modifications, in 1777, but had ever since remained in abeyance, 
in consequence of objections made by individual states. The con- 
federation was now complete, and Washington, in a letter to the 
President of Congress, congratulated him and the body over which 
he presided, on an event long wished for, and which he hoped 
would have the happiest effects upon the politics of this country, 
and be of essential service to our cause in Europe. 

It was, after all, an instrument far less efificacious than its advo- 
cates had anticipated ; but it served an important purpose in 
binding the states together as a nation, and keeping them from 
falling asunder into individual powers, after the pressure of exter- 
nal danger should cease to operate. 

Battle of the Cowpens. — The stress of war, as Washington 
apprehended, was at present shifted to the South. We left Gen- 
eral Greene, in the latter part of December, posted with one 
division of his army on the east side of the Pedee river, having 
detached General Morgan with the other division, one thousand 
strong, to take post near the confluence of the Pacolet and Broad 
rivers. 

Cornwallis lay encamped about seventy miles to the southwest 
of Greene, at Winnsborough. General Leslie had recently arrived 
at Charleston from Virginia, and was advancing to reinforce him 
with fifteen hundred men. This would give Cornwallis such a 
superiority of force, that he prepared for a second invasion of 
North Carolina. His plan was to leave Lord Rawdon at the 
central post of Camden with a considerable body of troops to 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH —YORKTOWN. 435 

keep all quiet, while his lordship, by rapid marches, would throw 
himself between Greene and Virginia, cut him off from all rein- 
forcements in that quarter, and oblige him to fight at a disadvan- 
tage. In either case, Cornwallis counted on a general rising of the 
loyahsts ; a re-establishment of British government in the Car- 
olinas, and the clearing away of all impediments to further triumphs 
in Virginia and Maryland. 

By recent information, he learnt that Morgan had passed both 
the Catawba and Broad rivers, and was about seventy miles to the 
northwest of him, on his way to the district of Ninety-Six. As 
Morgan might prove extremely formidable if left in his rear, Tarle- 
ton was sent in quest of him, with about eleven hundred choice 
troops, cavalry and infantry, and two field-pieces. 

Cornwallis moved with his main force on the 12th of December, 
in a northwest direction between the Broad river and the Catawba, 
leading toward the back country. This was for the purpose of 
crossing the great rivers at their fords near their sources ; for they 
are fed by innumerable petty streams which drain the mountains, 
and are apt, in the winter time, when storms of rain prevail, to 
swell and become impassable below their forks. He took this 
route also, to cut off Morgan's retreat, or prevent his junction with 
Greene, should Tarleton's expedition fail of its object. General 
Leslie, whose arrival was daily expected, was to move up along 
the eastern side of the Wateree and Catawba, keeping parallel 
with his lordship and joining him above*. P>erything on the part 
of Cornwallis was well planned, and seemed to promise him a 
successful campaign. 

Tarleton, after several days' hard marching, came upon the 
traces of Morgan, who was posted on the north bank of the 
Pacolet, to guard the passes of that river. He sent word to Corn- 
wallis of his intention to force a passage across the river, and com- 
pel Morgan either to fight or retreat, and suggested that his 
lordship should proceed up the eastern bank of Broad river, so as 
to be at hand to co-operate. His lordship, in consequence, took 
up a position at Turkey Creek, on Broad river. 

Morgan had been recruited by North Carolina and Georgia 



436 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

militia, so that his force was nearly equal in number to that of 
Tarleton, but, in point of cavalry and discipline, vastly inferior. 
CornvvalUs, too, was on his left, and might get in his rear ; check- 
ing his impulse, therefore, to dispute the passage of the Pacolet, 
he crossed that stream and retreated towards the upper fords of 
Broad river. 

Tarleton reached the Pacolet on the evening of the 15 th, but 
halted on observing some troops on the opposite bank. It was 
merely a party of observation which Morgan had left there, but he 
supposed that officer to be there in full force. After some 
manoeuvring to deceive his adversary he crossed the river before 
daylight at Easterwood shoals. There was no opposition. Still 
he proceeded warily, until he learnt that Morgan, instead of being 
in his neighborhood, was in full march toward Broad river. 
Tarleton now pressed on in pursuit. At ten o'clock at night he 
reached an encampment which Morgan had abandoned a few 
hours previously, apparently in great haste, for the camp-fires were 
still smoking, and provisions had been left behind half cooked. 
Eager to come upon his enemy while in the confusion of a hurried 
flight, Tarleton allowed his exhausted troops but a brief repose, 
and, leaving his baggage under a guard, resumed his dogged 
march about two o'clock in the night ; tramping forward through 
swamps and rugged broken grounds, round the western side of 
Thickety Mountain. A little before daylight of the 17th, he 
captured two videttes, from whom he learnt, to his surprise, that 
Morgan, instead of a headlong retreat, had taken a night's repose, 
and was actually preparing to give him batde. 

Morgan, in fact, had been urged by his officers to retreat across 
Broad river, which was near by, and make for the mountainous 
country ; but, closely pressed as he was, he feared to be overtaken 
while fording the river, and while his troops were fatigued, and in 
confusion; besides, being now nearly equal in number to the 
enemy, military pride would not suffer him to avoid a combat. 

The place where he came to halt was known in the early grants 
by the name of Hannah's Cowpens, being part of a grazing estab- 
lishment of a man named Hannah. It was in an open wood, 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORK TOWN. 437 

favorable to the action of cavalry. There were two eminences of 
unequal height, and separated from each other by an interval 
about eighty yards wide. To the first eminence, which v/as the 
highest, there was an easy ascent of about three hundred yards. 
On these heights Morgan had posted himself. His flanks were 
unprotected, and the Broad river, running parallel on his rear, 
about six miles distant, and winding round on the left, would cut 
off retreat, should the day prove unfortunate. The ground, in the 
opinion of tacticians, was not well chosen ; Morgan, a veteran 
bush-fighter, vindicated it in after times in his own characteristic 
way. " Had I crossed the river, one-half of the militia would 
have abandoned me. Had a swamp been in view, they would have 
made for it. As to covering my wings, I knew the foe I had to 
deal with, and that there would be nothing but downright fighting. 
As to a retreat, I wished to cut off all hope of one. Should 
Tarleton surround me with his cavalry, it would keep my troops 
from breaking away, and make them depend upon their bayonets. 
When men are forced to fight, they will sell their lives dearly." 

In arranging his troops for action, he drew out his infantry in 
two Hnes. The first was composed of the North and South 
Carolina militia, under Colonel Pickens, having an advanced corps 
of North Carolina and Georgia volunteer riflemen. This line, on 
which he had the least dependence, was charged to wait until the 
enemy were within dead shot; then to take good aim, fire two 
volleys and fall back. 

The second line, drawn up a moderate distance in the rear of 
the first, and near the brow of the main eminence, was composed 
of Colonel Howard's light infantry and the Virginia riflemen ; all 
Continental troops. They were informed of the orders which had 
been given to the first line, lest they should mistake their falling 
back for a retreat. Colonel Howard had the command of this 
line, on which the greatest reliance was placed. 

About a hundred and fifty yards in the rear of the second line, 
and on the slope of the lesser eminence, was Colonel Washington's 
troop of cavalry, about eighty strong; with about fifty mounted 
Carolinian volunteers, armed with sabres and pistols. 



438 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

British writers of the day gave Morgan credit for uncommon 
abihty and judgment in the disposition of his force ; placing the 
mihtia, in whom he had no great confidence, in full view on the 
edge of the wood, and keeping his best troops out of sight, but 
drawn up in excellent order and prepared for all events. 

It was about eight o'clock in the morning (January i yth) when 
Tarleton came up. The position of the Americans seemed to him 
to give great advantage to his cavalry, and he made hasty prepa- 
ration for immediate attack, anticipating an easy victory. Part of 
his infantry he formed into a line, with dragoons on each flank. 
The rest of the infantry and cavalry were to be a reserve, and to 
wait for orders. 

There was a physical difference in the condition of the adverse 
troops. The British were haggard from want of sleep and a rough 
night-tramp ; the Americans, on the contrary, were fresh from a 
night's rest, invigorated by a morning's meal, and deliberately 
drawn up. Tarleton took no notice of these circumstances, or dis- 
regarded them. Impetuous at all times, and now confident of vic- 
tory, he did not even wait until the reserve could be placed, but 
led on his first fine, which rushed shouting to the attack. The 
North Carolina and Georgia riflemen in the advance delivered 
their fire with effect, and fell back to the flanks of Pickens's militia. 
These, as they had been instructed, waited until the enemy were 
within fifty yards, and then made a destructive volley, but soon 
gave way before the push of the bayonet. The British infantry 
pushed up to the second fine, while forty of their cavalry attacked 
it on the right, seeking to turn its flank. Colonel Howard made 
a brave stand, and for some time there was a bloody conflict ; see- 
ing himself, however, in danger of being outflanked, he endeavored 
to change his front to the right. His orders were misunderstood, 
and his troops were falling into confusion, when Morgan rode up 
and ordered them to retreat over the hill, where Colonel Washing- 
ton's cavalry were hurried forward for their protection. 

The British, seeing the troops retiring over the hill, rushed for- 
ward irregularly in pursuit of what they deemed a routed foe. To 
their astonishment, they were met by Colonel Washington's dra- 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORK TOWN. 439 

goons, who spurred on them impetuously, while Howard's infantry, 
facing about, gave them an effective volley of musketry, and then 
charged with the bayonet. The enemy now fell into complete 
confusion. Some few artillerymen attempted to defend their guns, 
but were cut down or taken prisoners, and the cannon and colors 
captured. A panic seized upon the British troops, aided no doubt 
by fatigue and exhaustion. A general flight took place, larleton 
endeavored to bring his legion cavalry into action to retrieve the 
day. They had stood aloof as a reserve, and now, infected by 
the panic, turned their backs upon their commander, and galloped 
off through the woods, riding over the flyhig infantry. Fourteen 
of his officers, however, and forty of his dragoons, remained true 
to him; with these he attempted to withstand the attack of 
Washington's cavalry, and a fierce melee took place ; but on the 
approach of Howard's infantry Tarleton gave up all for lost, and 
spurred off with his few but faithful adherents, thence to seek the 
main army under Cornwallis. 

The loss of the British in this action was ten officers and above 
one hundred men killed, two hundred wounded, and between five 
and six hundred rank and file made prisoners ; while the Ameri- 
cans had but twelve men killed and sixty wounded. The dispar- 
ity of loss shows how complete had been the confusion and defeat 
of the enemy. 

Morgan did not linger on the field of battle. Leaving Colonel 
Pickens with a body of militia to bury the dead and provide for 
the wounded of both armies, he set out the same day about noon, 
with his prisoners and spoils. His object was to get to the Catawba 
before he could be intercepted by Cornwallis, who lay nearer than 
he did to the fords of that river. Before nightfall he crossed 
Broad river at the Cherokee Ford, and halted for a few hours on 
its northern bank. Before daylight of the i8th he was again on 
the march. Colonel Washington, who had been in pursuit of the 
enemy, rejoined him in the course of the day, as also did Colonel 
Pickens, who had left such of the wounded as could not be moved, 
under the protection of a flag of truce. 

Still fearing that he might be intercepted before he could reach 



440 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the Catawba, he put his prisoners in charge of Colonel Washington 
and the cavalry, with orders to move higher up into the country 
and cross the main Catawba at the Island Ford ; while he himself 
pushed forward for that river by the direct route ; thus to distract 
the attention of the enemy should they be in pursuit, and to secure 
his prisoners from being recaptured. 

Cornwallis, on the eventful day of the 1 7th, was at his camp on 
Turkey Creek, confidently waiting for tidings of victory, when, 
towards evening, some of Tarleton's routed dragoons came strag- 
gling into camp, to tell the tale of his defeat. It seemed incredi- 
ble, but was confirmed next morning, by the arrival of Tarleton 
himself, discomfited and crestfallen. In his account of the battle, 
he represented the force under Morgan to be two thousand. 
This exaggerated estimate, together with the idea that the mihtia 
would now be out in great force, rendered his lordship cau- 
tious. He remained a day or two at Turkey Creek to collect 
the scattered remains of Tarleton's forces, and await the arrival 
of Leslie, whose march had been much retarded by the waters. 
On the 19th, having been joined by Leslie, his lordship moved 
in the direction of King's Mountain, until informed of Morgan's 
retreat toward the Catawba. Cornwallis now altered his course in 
that direction, and, trusting that Morgan, encumbered, as he sup- 
posed him to be, by prisoners and spoils, might be overtaken be- 
fore he could cross that river, detached a part of his force, without 
baggage, in pursuit of him, while he followed on with the re- 
mainder. 

Nothing, say the British chroniclers, could exceed the exertions 
of the detachment ; but Morgan succeeded in reaching the 
Catawba and crossing it in the evening, just two hours before 
those in pursuit of him arrived on its banks. A heavy rain came 
on and fell all night, and by daybreak the river was so swollen as 
to be impassable. This gave Morgan time to send off his pris- 
oners who had crossed several miles above, and to call out the 
militia of Mecklenburg and Rowan counties to guard the fords of 
the river. 

Lord Cornwallis had moved slowly with his main body. He 



"VllRGnTILA. 



K%^ 




To face page 441. 

GREENE AND CORNWALLiS IN THE CAROLINAS, 1781. 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORKTOWN. 441 

was encumbered by an immense train of baggage ; the roads were 
through deep red clay, and the country was cut up by streams and 
morasses. It was not until the 25th that he assembled his whole 
force at Ramsour's Mills, on the Little Catawba, as the south fork 
of that river is called, and learnt that Morgan had crossed the 
main stream. Now he felt the serious loss he had sustained, in 
Tarleton's defeat, since hght troops were especially needed in such 
a country as he was entangled in. In this crippled condition, he 
determined to relieve his army of everything that could impede 
rapid movement in his future operations. Two days, therefore, 
were spent by him at Ramsour's Mills, in destroying all such 
baggage and stores as could possibly be spared. He began with 
his own. His officers followed his example. Superfluities of all 
kinds were sacrificed without flinching. Casks of wine and spirit- 
uous liquors were staved : quantities of provisions were sacrificed. 
No wagons were spared but those laden with hospital stores, 
salt, and ammunition, and four empty ones, for the sick and 
wounded. The alacrity with which these sacrifices of comforts, 
conveniencies, and even necessaries, were made, was honorable 
to both officers and men. 

The whole expedient was subsequently sneered at by Sir Henry 
Clinton, as being " something too like a Tartar move " ; but his 
lordship was preparing for a trial of speed, where it was important 
to carry as light weight as possible. 

Greene's Masterly Retreat. — General Greene was gladdened 
by a letter from Morgan, written shortly after his brilliant victory. 
He had already received intelligence of the landing of troops at 
Wilmington, from a British squadron, supposed to be a force 
under Arnold, destined to push \v^ Cape Fear river, and co-operate 
with Cornwallis ; he had to prepare, therefore, not only to succor 
Morgan, but to prevent this co-operation. He accordingly detached 
General Stevens with his Virginia militia (whose term of service 
was nearly expired) to take charge of Morgan's prisoners, and 
conduct them to Charlottesville in Virginia. At the same time he 
wrote to the governors of North Carolina and Virginia, for all the 
aid they could furnish ; to Steuben, to hasten forward his recruits ; 



442 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

and to Shelby, Campbell, and otliers, to take arms once more, and 
rival their achievements at King's Mountain. 

This done, Greene left General Huger in command of the 
division on the Pedee, with orders to hasten on by forced marches 
to Salisbury, to join Morgan's division : in the meantime he set 
off himself on horseback for Morgan's camp, attended merely by a 
guide, an aide-de-camp, and a sergeant's guard of dragoons. His 
object was to aid Morgan in checking the enemy until the junction 
of his forces could be effected. It was a hard ride of more than 
a hundred miles through a rough country. On the last day of 
January he reached Morgan's camp at Sherrard's Ford on the east 
side of the Catawba. The British army lay on the opposite side, 
but a few miles distant, and appeared to be making preparations 
to force a passage, as the river was subsiding, and would soon be 
fordable. Greene supposed Cornwallis had in view a junction 
with Arnold at Cape Fear ; he wrote, therefore, to General Huger 
to hurry on, so that with their united forces they could give his 
lordship a defeat before he could effect the junction. " I am not 
wi/hoiit hopes,'" writes he, '^ of ruining Lord Cornwallis if he per- 
sists in his mad sche?ne of pi/shing through the country; and it is 
my earnest desire to form a junction as early for this purpose as 
possible. Desire Colonel Lee to force a march to join us. Here 
is a fine field, and gj-e at glory ahead.'' 

More correct information relieved him from the apprehension 
of a co-operation of Arnold and Cornwallis. The British troops 
which landed at Wilmington were merely a small detachment sent 
from Charleston to establish a military d^pot for the use of Corn- 
wallis in his Southern campaign. They had taken possession of 
Wilmington without opposition. Greene now changed his plans. 
He was aware of the ill-provided state of the British army, from 
the voluntary destruction of their wagons, tents, and baggage. 
When he first heard of this measure, on arriving at Sherrard's 
Ford, he had exclaimed, ''Then Cornwallis is ours." His plan 
now was to tempt the enemy continually with the prospect of a 
battle, but continually to elude one ; to harass them by a long 
pursuit, draw them higher into the country, and gain time for 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORKTOWN. 443 

the division advancing under Hiiger to join him. It was the 
Fabian policy that he had learnt under Washington, of whom he 
prided himself on being a disciple. 

As the subsiding of the Catawba would enable Cornwallis to 
cross, Greene ordered Morgan to move off silendy with his divis- 
ion, on the evening of the 31st, and to press his march all night, 
so as to gain a good start in advance, while he himself would re- 
main to bring on the militia, who were employed to check the 
enemy. These militia, assembled from the neighboring counties, 
did not exceed five hundred. Two hundred of them were dis- 
tributed at different fords; the remainder, forming a corps of 
mounted riflemen under General Davidson, were to watch the 
enemy's movements, and attack him wherever he should make his 
main attempt to cross. When the enemy should have actually 
crossed, the different bodies of militia were to make the best of 
their way to a rendezvous, sixteen miles distant, on the road to 
Salisbury, where Greene would be waiting to receive them, and 
conduct their further movements. 

While these dispositions were being made by the American 
commander, Cornwallis was preparing to cross the river. The 
night of the 31st was chosen for the attempt. To divert the atten- 
tion of the Americans, he detached colonels Webster and Tarle- 
ton with a part of the army to a public ford called Beattie's Ford, 
where he supposed Davidson to be stationed. There they were 
to open a cannonade, and make a feint of forcing a passage. The 
main attempt, however, was to be made six miles lower down, at 
McGowan's, a private and unfrequented ford, where little, if any, 
opposition was anticipated. 

Cornwallis set out for McGowan's ford, with the main body of 
his army, at one o'clock in the morning. The night was dark 
and rainy. He had to make his way through a wood and swamp 
where there was no road. His artillery stuck fast. The line 
passed on without them. It was near daybreak when the head of 
the column reached the ford. To their surprise, they beheld 
numerous camp-fires on the opposite bank. Word was hastily 
carried to Cornwallis that the ford was guarded. It was so in- 
deed : Davidson v/as there with his riflemen. 



444 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

His lordship would have waited for his artillery, but the rain 
was still falling, and might render the river unfordable. At that 
place the Catawba was nearly five hundred yards wide, about three 
feet deep, very rapid, and full of large stones. The troops entered 
the river in platoons, to support each other against the current, 
and were ordered not to fire until they should gain the opposite 
bank. Colonel Hall, of the light infantry, led the way ; the gren- 
adiers followed. The noise of the water and the darkness covered 
their movements until they were nearly half-way across, when they 
were descried by an American sentinel. He challenged them 
three times, and receiving no answer, fired. Terrified by the 
report, the man who was guiding the British turned and fled. 
Colonel Hall, thus abandoned, led the way directly across the 
river; whereas the true ford inclined diagonally further down. 
Hall had to pass through deeper water, but he reached a part of 
the bank where it was unguarded. The American pickets, too, 
which had turned out at the alarm given by the sentinel, had to 
deliver a distant and slanting fire. Still it had its effect. Three 
of the British were killed, and thirty-six wounded. Colonel Hall 
pushed on gallantly, but was shot down as he ascended the bank. 
The horse on which Cornwallis rode was wounded, but the brave 
animal carried his lordship to the shore, where he sank under him. 
The steed of Brigadier-general O'Hara rolled over with him into 
the water, and General Leslie's horse was borne away by the 
tumultuous current and with difficulty recovered. 

General Davidson hastened with his men towards the place 
where the British were landing. The latter formed as soon as 
they found themselves on firm ground, charged Davidson's men 
before he had time to get them in order, killed and wounded 
about forty, and put the rest to flight. Davidson himself, the last 
to leave the ground, was killed as he was mounting his horse. 
When the enemy had effected the passage, Tarleton was detached 
in pursuit of the militia, most of whom dispersed to their homes. 

Greene, learning that the enemy had crossed the Catawba at 
daybreak, awaited anxiously at the rendezvous the arrival of the 
militia. It was not until after midnight that he heard of their dis- 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH-YORKTOWN. 445 

persion, and Davidson's death. Apprehending the rapid advance 
of CornwalHs, he hastened to rejoin Morgan, who with his division 
was pushing forward for the Yadkin, first sending orders to Gen- 
eral Huger to conduct the other division by the most direct route 
to Guilford Court-house, where the forces were to be united. 
Greene spurred forward through heavy rain and deep, miry roads. 
It was a dreary ride and a lonely one, for he had detached his 
aides-de-camp in different directions, to collect the scattered mili- 
tia. At mid-day he alighted, weary and travel-stained, at the inn 
at Salisbury, where the army physician who had charge of the sick 
and wounded prisoners received him at the door, and inquired 
after his well-being. " Fatigued, hungry, alone, and penniless," 
was Greene's heavy-hearted reply. The landlady, Mrs. Elizabeth 
Steele, overheard his desponding words. While he was seated at 
table, 'she entered the room, closed the door, and drawing from 
under her apron two bags of money, which she had carefully 
hoarded in these precarious times, "Take these," said the noble- 
hearted woman ; " you will want them, and I can do without them." 
This is one of the numberless instances of the devoted patriotism 
of our women during the Revolution. 

Cornwallis did not advance so rapidly as had been apprehended. 
After crossing the Catawba, he had to wait for his wagons and 
artillery, which had remained on the other side in the woods ; so 
that by nightfall of the ist of February he was not more than five 
miles on the road to Sahsbury. Eager to come up with the 
Americans, he mounted some of the infantry upon the baggage 
horses, joined them to the cavalry, and sent the whole forward 
under General O'Hara. They arrived on the banks of the Yadkin 
at night, between the 2d and 3d of February, just in time to cap- 
ture a few wagons lingering in the rear of the American army, 
which had passed. The riflemen who guarded them retreated 
after a short skirmish. There were no boats with which to cross ; 
the Americans had secured them on the other side. The rain 
which had fallen throughout the day had overflooded the ford by 
which the American cavalry had passed. The pursuers were again 
brought to a stand. After some doubt and delay, Cornwallis took 



446 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

his course up the south side of the Yadkin, and crossed by what 
is still called the Shallow Ford, while Greene continued on 
unmolested to Guilford Court-house, where he was joined by 
General Huger and his division on the 9th. 

Cornwallis was now encamped about twenty-five miles above 
them, at the old Moravian town of Salem. Greene summoned a 
council of war (almost the only time he was known to do so) , and 
submitted the question whether or not to offer battle. There was 
a unanimous vote in the negative. A fourth part of the force was 
on the sick Hst, from nakedness and exposure. The official returns 
gave but two thousand and thirty-six, rank and file, fit for duty. 
Of these upwards of six' hundred were militia. CornwalHs had 
from twenty-five hundred to three thousand men, including three 
hundred cavalry, all thoroughly disciplined and well equipped. It 
was determined to continue the retreat. 

Greene's great object now was to get across the river Dan and 
throw himself into Virginia. With the reinforcements he might 
there expect to find, he hoped to effect the salvation of the South. 
The object of Cornwallis was to get between him and Virginia, and 
force him to a combat before he co'uld receive those reinforce- 
ments. His lordship had been informed that the lower part of the 
Dan could only be crossed in boats, and that the country did not 
afford a sufficient number for the passage of Greene's army ; he 
trusted, therefore, to cut him off from the upper part of the river, 
where alone it was fordable. Greene, however, had provided 
against such a contingency. Boats had been secured at various 
places by his agents, and could be collected at a few hours' notice 
at the lower ferries. Instead, therefore, of striving with his lord- 
ship for the upper fords, Greene shaped his course for Boyd's and 
Irwin's ferries, just above the confluence of the Dan and Staunton 
rivers which forms the Roanoke, and about seventy miles from 
Guilford Court-house. This gave him twenty-five miles advantage 
of Lord CornwalHs at the outset. 

In ordering his march, General Greene took the lead with the 
main body, the baggage, and stores. General Morgan would have 
had the command of the rear-guard, composed of seven hundred 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORK TOWN. 447 

of the most alert and active troops, cavalry and light infantry; 
but as he was disabled by a violent attack of rheumatism, it was 
given to Colonel Otho Williams who had with him colonels How- 
ard, Washington, and Lee. This rear-guard did admirable service. 
Being lightly equipped, it could manoeuvre in front of the British 
line of march, break down bridges, sweep off provisions, and im- 
pede its progress in a variety of ways, while the main body moved 
forward unmolested. It was now that Cornwallis most felt the 
severity of the blow he had received at the battle of the Cowpens 
in the loss of his light troops, which left him quite unable to cope 
with Williams. 

Great abilities were shown by the commanders on either side in 
this momentous trial of activity and skill. It was a long and 
severe march for both armies, through a wild and rough country. 
We forbear to enter into the details of the many stratagems and 
manoeuvres by which the enemy was delayed and hoodwinked. 
So thoroughly had Cornwallis been misinformed as to the means 
of passing the river, and so difficult was it, from want of light 
troops, to gain information while on the march, that he pushed on 
in the firm conviction that he was driving the American army into a 
trap and would give it a signal blow before it could cross the Dan. 

In the meantime, Greene, with the main body, reached the 
banks of the river, and succeeded in crossing over with ease in the 
course of a single day at Boyd's and Irwin's ferries, sending back 
word to Williams, who with his covering party was far in the rear. 
That intelligent officer encamped, as usual, in the evening, at a 
wary distance in front of the enemy, but stole a march upon them 
after dark, leaving his camp-fires burning. He pushed on all 
night, arrived at the ferry in the morning of the 15 th, having 
marched forty miles within four and twenty hours ; and made such 
dispatch in crossing, that his last troops had landed on the Vir- 
ginia shore by the time the astonished enemy arrived on the oppo- 
site bank. Nothing, according to their own avowal, could surpass 
the grief and vexation of the British at discovering, on their arri- 
val at Boyd's Ferry, '^ that all their toils and exertions had been 
vain, and that all their hopes were frustrated." 



448 LIFE OF WASH-INGTON. 

Battle of Guilford Court-House. — For a day the two armies 
lay panting within sight of each other on the opposite banks of 
the river which had put an end to the race. 

On the 1 6th, the river began to subside : the enemy might soon 
be able to cross. Greene prepared for a further retreat by send- 
ing forward his baggage on the road to Halifax, and securing the 
passage of the Staunton. At Halifax he was resolved to make a 
stand, rather than suffer the enemy to take possession of it without 
a struggle. Its situation on the Roanoke would make it a strong 
position for their army, supported by a fleet, and would favor their 
designs both on Virginia and the Carolinas. With a view to its 
defence, entrenchments had already been thrown up, under the 
direction of Kosciuszko. Lord Cornwallis, however, did not deem 
it prudent to venture into Virginia, where Greene would be sure of 
powerful reinforcements. North CaroHna was in a state of the 
utmost disorder and confusion ; he thought it better to remain in 
it for a time, and profit by Greene's absence. After giving his 
troops a day's repose, therefore, he put them once more in motion 
on the 1 8th, along the road by which he had pursued Greene. 
The latter, incessantly on the alert, was informed of this retrograde 
move, by a preconcerted signal ; the waving of a white handker- 
chief from the opposite bank, by a female patriot. 

This changed the game. Lee, with his legion, strengthened by 
two veteran Maryland companies, and Pickens, with a corps of 
South Carolina militia, all light troops, were transported across the 
Dan in the boats, with orders to gain the front of Cornwallis, 
hover as near as safety would permit, cut off his intercourse with 
the disaffected parts of the country, and check the rising of the 
loyalists. " If we can but delay him for a day or two," said 
Greene, " he must be ruined." Greene, in the meanwhile, 
remained with his main force on the northern bank of the Dan, 
waiting to ascertain his lordship's real designs, and ready to cross 
at a moment's warning. 

The' movements of Cornwallis, for a day or two, were designed 
to perplex his opponents ; on the 20th, however, he took post at 
Hillsborough. Here he erected the royal standard, and issued a 



SECOND GREAT TRIUiMPH— YORK TOWN. 449 

proclamation, stating that, whereas it had pleased Divine Provi- 
dence to prosper the operations of His Majesty's arms in driving 
the rebel army out of the province, he invited all his loyal subjects 
to hasten to his standard with their arms and ten days' provisions, 
to assist in suppressing the remains of rebellion, and re-establishing 
good order and constitutional government. This sounding appeal 
produced but little effect. Many people, says Tarleton, rode into 
camp to talk over the proclamation, inquire the news of the day, 
and take a look at the king's troops. They acknowledged that 
the Continentals had been chased out of the province, but sur- 
mised they would soon return. Some of the most zealous prom- 
ised to raise companies, but their followers and dependents were 
slow to enhst. 

Rumor in the meantime had magnified the effect of his lord- 
ship's proclamation. Word was brought to Greene that the Tories 
were flocking from all quarters to the royal standard. Seven com- 
panies, it was said, had been raised in a single day. At this time 
the reinforcements to the American camp had been Httle more 
than six hundred Virginia militia, under General Stevens. Greene 
saw that at this rate, if Cornwallis were allowed to remain undis- 
turbed, he would soon have complete command of North Carolina ; 
he boldly determined, therefore, to recross the Dan at all hazards 
with the scanty force at his command and give his lordship check. 
In this spirit he broke up his camp and crossed the river on the 23d. 

The reappearance of Greene in North Carolina, heralded as it 
was by daring raids of Lee and Pickens, disconcerted the schemes 
of Lord Cornwallis. The recruiting service was interrupted. Many 
loyalists who were on the way to his camp returned home. Forage 
and provisions became scarce in the neighborhood. He found 
himself, he said, " amongst timid friends and adjoining to invet- 
erate rebels." On the 26th, therefore, he abandoned Hillsborough, 
threw himself across the Haw, and encamped near Alamance 
Creek, one of its principal tributaries, in a country favorable to 
supplies and with a Tory population. His position was command- 
ing, at the point of concurrence of roads from Salisbury, Guilford, 
High Rockford, Cross Creek, and Hillsborough. It covered also 



450 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the communication with Wilmington, where a d^pot of mihtary 
stores, so important to his half- destitute army, had recently been 
established, 

Greene, with his main army, took post about fifteen miles above 
him, on the heights between Troublesome Creek and Reedy Fork, 
one of the tributaries of the Haw. His plan was to cut the enemy 
off from the upper counties ; to harass him by skirmishes, but to 
avoid a general battle ; thus gaining time for the arrival of rein- 
forcements daily expected. He rarely lay more than two days in 
a place, and kept his light troops under Pickens and Williams 
between him and the enemy, hovering about the latter, intercept- 
ing his intelligence, attacking his foraging parties, and striking at 
his flanks whenever exposed. Sharp skirmishes occurred between 
them and Tarleton's cavalry with various success. The country 
being much of a wilderness obliged both parties to be on the alert ; 
but the Americans, accustomed to bush-fighting, were not easily 
surprised. 

After a fortnight of such skirmishing, the long-expected rein- 
forcements arrived, having been hurried on by forced marches. 
They consisted of a brigade of Virginia militia under General 
Lawson, two brigades of North Carolina militia under generals 
Butler and Eaton, and four hundred regulars enlisted for eighteen 
months. His whole effective force, according to official returns, 
amounted to four thousand two hundred and forty-three foot, and 
one hundred and sixty-one cavalry. His force nearly doubled in 
number that of Cornwallis, which did not exceed two thousand 
four hundred men; but many of Greene's troops were raw and 
inexperienced, and had never been in battle ; those of the enemy, 
as it is needless to repeat, were all veterans of the finest quality. 
Greene knew the inferiority of his troops in this respect; his 
reinforcements, too, fell far short of what he had been led to ex- 
pect, yet he determined to accept the battle which had so long 
been offered. The corps of light troops, under Williams, which 
had rendered such efficient service, was now incorporated with the 
main body, and all detachments were ordered to assemble at Guil- 
ford, within eight miles of the enemy, where Greene encamped on 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORKTOWN. 451 

the 14th, sending his wagons and heavy baggage to the Iron Works 
at Troublesome Creek, ten miles in his rear. 

Cornwallis, from the difficulty of getting correct information, 
and from Greene's frequent change of position, had an exagger- 
ated idea of the American force, rating it as high as eight thousand 
men : still he trusted in his well-seasoned veterans, and determined 
to attack Greene in his encampment. At daybreak on the 15 th he 
set out for Guilford. Within four miles of that place, near the 
New Garden meeting-house, Tarleton with the advanced guard of 
cavalry, infantry, and yagers, came upon the American advanced 
guard, composed of Lee's partisan legion, and some mountaineers 
and Virginia militia. Tarleton and Lee were well matched in 
military prowess, and the skirmish between them was severe. Lee's 
horses, taken from Virginia and Pennsylvania, were superior in 
weight and strength to those of his opponent, which had been 
chiefly taken from plantations in South Carolina. The latter were 
borne down by a charge in close column ; several of their riders 
were dismounted, and killed or taken prisoners. Tarleton, seeing 
that his weakly mounted men fought to a disadvantage, sounded a 
retreat ; Lee endeavored to cut him off : a general conflict of the 
vanguards, horse and foot, ensued, when the appearance of the 
main body of the enemy obliged Lee, in his turn, to retire with 
precipitation. 

During this time, Greene was preparing for action on a woody 
eminence, a little more than a mile south of Guilford Court-house. 
The neighboring country was covered with forest, excepting some 
cultivated fields about the court-house, and along the Salisbury 
road, which passed through the centre of the place, from south to 
north. Greene had drawn out his troops in three lines. The first, 
composed of North CaroHna militia, under generals Butler and 
Eaton, was posted behind a fence, with an open field in front, and 
woods on the flanks and in the rear. About three hundred yards 
behind this was the second line, composed of the Virginia militia, 
under generals Stevens and Lawson, drawn up across the road, and 
covered by a wood. The third hne, about four hundred yards in 
the rear of the second, was composed of Continental troops or 



452 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

regulars ; those of Virginia under General Huger on the left, those 
of Maryland under Colonel Williams on the right. Colonel Wash- 
ington with a body of dragoons, Kirkwood's Delaware infantry, 
and a battalion of Virginia militia, covered the right flank ; Lee's 
legion, with the Virginia riflemen under Colonel Campbell, covered 
the left. Two six-pounders were in the road, in advance of the 
fiiSt line ; two field-pieces with the rear line near the court-house, 
where General Greene took his station. 

About noon the head of the British army was descried advanc- 
ing spiritedly from the south along the Salisbury road, and defiling 
into the fields. A cannonade was opened from the two six-pound- 
ers, in front of the first American line. It was answered by the 
British artillery. Neither produced much eflect. The enemy now 
advanced coolly and steadily in three columns ; the Hessians and 
Highlanders under General Leslie, on the right, the Royal Artillery 
and Guards in the centre, and Webster's Brigade on the left. The 
North Carohnians, who formed the first line, waited until the enemy 
were within one hundred and fifty yards, when, agitated by their 
martial array and undaunted movement, they began to fall into 
confusion ; some fired off their pieces without taking aim ; others 
threw them down, and took to flight. A volley from the foe, a 
shout, and a charge of the bayonet, completed their discomfiture. 
Some fled to the woods, others fell back upon the Virginians, who 
formed the second line. General Stevens, who commanded the 
latter, ordered his men to open and let the fugitives pass, pretend- 
ing that they had orders to retire. He had taken care, however, 
to post forty riflemen in the rear of his own line, with orders to 
fire upon any one who should leave his post. Under his spirited 
command and example, the Virginians kept their ground and fought 
bravely. The action became broken up and diversified by the 
extent of the ground. The thickness of the woods impeded the 
movements of the cavalry. The reserves on both sides were 
called up. The British bayonet again succeeded ; the second line 
gave way, and General Stevens, who had kept the field for some 
time, after being wounded in the thigh by a musket-ball, ordered 
a retreat. The enemy pressed with increasing ardor against the 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORK TOWN. 453 

third line, composed of Continental troops, well disciplined, fresh, 
and in perfect order. Greene counted on these to retrieve the 
day. He rode along the line, calling on them to stand firm, and 
give the enemy a warm reception. 

The first Maryland regiment, which was on the right wing, was 
attacked by Colonel Webster, with the British left. It stood the 
shock bravely, and being seconded by some Virginia troops, and 
Kirkwood's Delawares, drove Webster across a ravine. The second 
Maryland regiment was not so successful. Impetuously attacked 
by Colonel Stewart, with a battalion of the Guards, and a com- 
pany of grenadiers, it faltered, gave way, and fled, abandoning two 
field-pieces, which were seized by the enemy. Stewart was pur- 
suing, when the first regiment, which had driven Webster across 
the ravine, came to the rescue with fixed bayonets, while Colonel 
Washington spurred up with his cavalry. The fight now was fierce 
and bloody. Stewart was slain ; the two field-pieces were retaken, 
and the enemy in their turn gave way and were pursued with 
slaughter ; a destructive fire of grape-shot from the enemy's artil- 
lery checked the pursuit. Two regiments approached on the 
right and left ; Webster recrossed the ravine and fell upon Kirk- 
wood's Delawares. There was intrepid fighting in different parts 
of the field ; but Greene saw that all hope of victory was lost ; 
there was no retrieving the effect produced by the first flight of 
the North Carolinians. Unwilling to risk the total defeat of his 
army, he directed a retreat, which was made in good order, but 
they had to leave their artillery on the field, most of the horses 
having been killed. About three miles from the field of action 
he made a halt to collect stragglers, and then continued on to the 
place of rendezvous at Speedwell's Iron Works on Troublesome 
Creek. 

The Bridsh were too much cut up and fatigued to follow up 
their advantage, — it could hardly be called a victory. Two regi- 
ments with Tarleton's cavalry attempted a pursuit, but were called 
back. Efforts were made to collect the wounded of both armies, 
but they were dispersed over so wide a space, among woods and 
thickets, that nidit closed before the task was accomplished. It 



454 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

was a dismal night even to the victors ; a night of unusual dark- 
ness, with torrents of rain. The army was destitute of tents ; there 
were not sufficient houses in the vicinity to receive the wounded ; 
provisions were scanty ; many had tasted very httle food for the 
last two days ; comforts were out of the question. Many of the 
wounded sank under their aggravated miseries, and expired before 
morning. 

The loss of the Americans in this hard-fought affair was never 
fully ascertained. Their official returns, made immediately after 
the action, give little more than four hundred killed and wounded, 
and between eight and nine hundred missing. The loss sus- 
tained by Cornwallis was far more fatal; for, in the circum- 
stances in which he was placed, it was not to be supphed, and 
it completely maimed him. Of his small army about six hun- 
dred, or more than one-fourth of the whole, were either killed or 
disabled, while the survivors were exhausted by fatigue and hun- 
ger ; his camp was encumbered by the wounded. His victory, in 
fact, was almost as ruinous as a defeat. He could not even hold 
the ground he had so bravely won, but was obliged to retreat from 
the scene of triumph, to some secure position where he might 
obtain supplies for his famished army. Leaving many of his 
wounded under the protection of a flag of truce, he set out, on the 
third day after the battle, for Cross Creek, an eastern branch of 
Cape Fear river, where was a settlement of Scottish Highlanders, 
whom he supposed to be stout adherents to the royal cause. Here 
he expected to be plentifully supplied with provisions, and to have 
his sick and wounded well taken care of. From this point he 
supposed he could open a communication by Cape Fear river, 
with Wilmington, and obtain from the d(§p6t recently established 
there such supplies as the country about Cross Creek did not 
afford. 

No sooner did Greene learn that Cornwallis was retreating, than 
he set out to follow him, thus presenting the singular spectacle of 
the vanquished pursuing the victor. His troops suffered greatly 
in this pursuit from wintry weather and scarcity of provisions ; but 
they harassed the enemy's rear-guard with frequent skirmishes. 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORKTOWM. 455 

On the 28th Greene arrived at Ramsey's Mills, on Deep river, 
hard on the traces of Cornwallis, who had left the place a few 
hours previously, with such precipitation that several of his wounded, 
who had died while on the march, were left behind unburied. Sev- 
eral fresh quarters of beef had likewise been forgotten, and were 
seized upon with eagerness by the hungry soldiery. Such had 
been the urgency of the pursuit this day that many of the Amer- 
ican troops sank upon the road exhausted with fatigue. 

At Deep river Greene was brought to a stand. Cornwallis had 
broken down the bridge by which he had crossed ; and further 
pursuit for the present was impossible. The constancy of the 
militia now gave way. Every step had led them from their homes 
and increased their privations. The term for which most of them 
had enlisted was expired, and they now demanded their discharge. 
Greene saw that with his force thus reduced it would be impossi- 
ble to pursue the enemy further. Moreover, the halt he was obliged 
to make to rebuild the bridge would give them such a start as to 
leave no hope of overtaking them. Suddenly he determined to 
change his course and carry the war into South Carolina. This 
would oblige the enemy either to follow him, and thus abandon 
North Carolina ; or else to sacrifice all his posts in the upper part 
of South Carolina and Georgia. He apprised Sumter, Pickens, 
and Marion by letter, of his intentions, and called upon them to 
be ready to co-operate with all the mihtia they could collect; 
promising to send forward cavalry and small detachments of light 
infantry, to aid them in capturing outposts before the army should 
arrive. 

In pursuance of this extremely sagacious plan, Greene, on the 
30th of March, discharged all his militia with many thanks for the 
courage and fortitude with which they had followed him through 
so many scenes of peril and hardship ; and joyously did the poor 
fellows set out for their homes. Then, after giving his "httle, dis- 
tressed, but successful army," a short taste of the repose they 
needed, and having collected a few days' provision, he set forward 
on the 5 th of April toward Camden, where Lord Rawdon had his 
head-quarters. 



456 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Cornwallis, in the meantime, was grievously disappointed in the 
hopes he had formed of obtaining ample provisions and forage at 
Cross Creek, and strong reinforcements from the loyalists in that 
neighborhood. Neither could he open a communication by Cape 
Fear river for the conveyance of his troops to Wilmington. The 
distance by water was upwards of a hundred miles, the breadth of 
the river seldom above one hundred yards, the banks high, and 
the inhabitants on each side generally hostile. He was compelled, 
therefore, to continue his retreat by land, quite to Wilmington, 
where he arrived on the 7th of April. 

It was his lordship's intention, as soon as he should have rested 
his weary corps and received some expected reinforcements from 
Ireland, to return to the upper country, in hopes of giving protec- 
tion to the royal interests in South Carolina, until he could concert 
new measures with Sir Henry CHnton. His plans were all discon- 
certed, however, by intelligence of Greene's rapid march toward 
Camden. Never, we are told, was his lordship more dismayed 
than by this news. It was too late for him to render any aid to 
Lord Rawdon by a direct move toward Camden. Before he could 
arrive there, Greene would have made an attack ; if successful, his 
lordship's army might be hemmed in among the great rivers, in an 
exhausted country, revolutionary in its spirit, where Greene might 
cut off their subsistence and effect their ruin. At the same time, 
all thoughts of offensive operations against North Carolina were at 
an end. Sickness, desertion, and the loss sustained at Guilford 
Court-house, had reduced his little army to fourteen hundred and 
thirty-five men. 

In this sad predicament, after remaining several days in a pain- 
ful state of irresolution, he determined to take advantage of Greene's 
having left the back part of Virginia open, to march directly into 
that province, and attempt a junction with the force acting there 
under General Phillips, who had been sent down to supersede Arnold. 
By this move he might draw Greene back to the northward, and 
by the reduction of Virginia he might promote the subjugation of 
the South. The move, however, he felt to be perilous. His troops 
were worn down by upwards of eight hundred miles of marching 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORK TOWN. 457 

and counter-marching through an inhospitable and impracticable 
country ; they had now three hundred more before them, under 
still worse circumstances than those in which they first set out ; for so 
destitute were they, notwithstanding the supplies received at Wil- 
mington, that his lordship, sadly humorous, declared " his cavalry 
wanted everything, and his infantry everything but shoes." 

There was no time for hesitation or delay. Greene might return 
and render the junction with Phillips impracticable : having sent 
an express to the latter, therefore, informing him of his coming, 
and appointing a meeting at Petersburg, his lordship set off on the 
25 th of April on his fated march into Virginia. 

Cornwallis and Lafayette in Virginia. — On arriving at Peters- 
burg on the 20th of May, after a weary march of nearly a month. 
Lord Cornwallis found his force increased to more than five thou- 
sand men. General Phillips had just died of a fever, leaving the 
command to Arnold, who now, upon Cornwallis's arrival, returned 
to New York. For more than a month the British forces in Vir- 
ginia had been watched, annoyed, and to some extent held at bay 
by Lafayette, whom Washington had sent down for the purpose. 
The first object of Cornwallis was to strike a blow at Lafayette. 
The marquis was encamped on the north side of James river, 
between Wilton and Richmond, with about one thousand regulars, 
two thousand militia, and fifty dragoons. He was waiting for rein- 
forcements of militia, and for the arrival of General Wayne with 
the Pennsylvania line. The latter had been ordered to the South 
by Washington nearly three months previously, but was unavoidably 
delayed. Joined by these, Lafayette would venture to receive a 
blow, " that, being beaten, he might at least be beaten with 
decency, and Cornwallis pay something for his victory." 

His lordship hoped to draw him into an action before thus rein- 
forced, and with that view, marched, on the 24th of May, from 
Petersburg to James river, which he crossed at Westover, about 
thirty miles below Richmond. Lafayette conscious of the inferi- 
ority of his forces, at once decamped and directed his march 
toward the upper country, inclining to the north, to favor a junc- 
tion with Wayne. Cornwallis followed him as far as the upper 



458 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

part of Hanover County, destroying public stores wherever found. 
He appears to have under\^akied Lafayette, on account of his 
youth. "The boy cannot escape me," said he, in a letter which 
was intercepted. Nevertheless, Cornwallis soon found it impos- 
sible either to overtake Lafayette, or prevent his junction with 
Wayne ; he turned his attention, therefore, to other objects. 

Greene, in his passage through Virginia, had urged the impor- 
tance of removing horses out of the way of the enemy ; his cau- 
tion had been neglected ; the consequences were now felt. The 
great number of fine horses in the stables of Virginia gentlemen 
had enabled Cornwallis to mount many of his troops in first-rate 
style. These he employed in scouring the country, and destroy- 
ing public stores. Tarleton and his legion, it is said, were mounted 
on race-horses. On the 4th of June they made a dash upon 
Charlottesville, whither the state legislature had been removed for 
security, and even tried to capture the governor, Thomas Jefferson, 
in his house at Monticello, in that neighborhood. The attempts 
were unsuccessful. Presently Cornwallis turned and retreated, 
first to Richmond, then down the peninsula to Yorktown, where 
he intended to wait in a secure position for reinforcements. He 
was closely followed by Lafayette, who had been reinforced by 
Steuben and Wayne. The position at Yorktown seemed secure 
to Cornwallis because it was near the water ; and ever since the 
beginning of the war the British had ruled the water. The posi- 
tion was not so safe as it seemed. But before giving the sequel, 
we must turn back and follow for a moment the fortunes of Gen- 
eral Greene. 

Greene and Rawdon in South Carolina. — It will be recollected 
that Greene, on the 5 th of April, set out from Deep river on a 
retrograde march, to carry the war again into South Carolina, 
beginning by an attack on Lord Rawdon's post at Camden. Sum- 
ter and Marion had been keeping alive the revolutionary fire in 
that state ; the former on the northwest frontier, the latter in his 
favorite fighting ground between the Pedee and Santee rivers. On 
the reappearance of Greene, they stood ready to aid with heart 
and hand. 




To face page 458. 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORK TOWN. 459 

On his way to Camden, Greene detached Lee to join Marion 
with his legion, and make an attack upon Fort Watson in order 
to cut off Rawdon's supplies. For himself, he appeared before 
Camden, but finding it too strong and too well garrisoned, fell 
back about two miles, and took post at Hobkirk's Hill, hoping 
to draw his lordship out. There Rawdon attacked him on the 
25th of April, coming upon him partly by surprise. There was a 
hard -fought battle, but through some false move among part of 
his troops, Greene was obliged to retreat. His lordship did not 
pursue, but shut himself up in Camden, waiting to be rejoined by 
part of his garrison which was absent. 

Greene posted himself near Camden Ferry on the Wateree, to 
intercept these reinforcements. Lee and Marion, who had suc- 
ceeded in capturing Fort Watson, also took a position on the high 
hills of Santee for the same purpose. Their efforts were unavail- 
ing. Lord Rawdon was rejoined by the other part of his troops. 
His superior force now threatened to give him the mastery. 
Greene felt the hazardous nature of his situation. His troops 
were fatigued by their long marchings ; he was disappointed of 
promised reinforcements from Virginia ; still he was undismayed, 
and prepared for another of his long and stubborn retreats. '' We 
must always operate," said he, " on the maxim that your enemy 
will do what he ought to do. Lord Rawdon will push us back to 
the mountains, but we will dispute every inch of ground in the 
best manner we can." Such were his words to General Davie on 
the evening of the 9th of May, as he sat in his tent with a map 
before him studying the roads and fastnesses of the country. An 
express was to set off for Philadelphia the next morning, and he 
requested General Davie, who was of that city, to write -to the 
members of Congress with whom he was acquainted, painting in 
the strongest colors their situation and gloomy prospects. 

The next morning there was a joyful reverse. Greene sent for 
General Davie. " Rawdon," cried he, exultingly, " is preparing to 
evacuate Camden ; that place was the key of the enemy's Hne of 
posts ; they will now all fall or be evacuated ; all will now go well. 
Burn your letters. I shall march immediately to the Congaree." 



460 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

His lordship had heard of the march of CornwalHs into Virginia, 
and that all hope of aid from him was at an end. His garrison 
was out of pro\isions. All su[>plies were rut olV 1)\' the Amerii-ans ; 
he had no ehoiee but to evaiaiate the town. He left Camden in 
tlauies. Immense (piantities of stores anil baggage were consumed, 
tvigether with the court-house, the jail, and uiau\ priNate houses. 

Rapid successes now attended the American arms, l-'ort Motte, 
the middle post between Camden and Ninety Six, was taken by 
Marion and Lee. Lee next captured (n^anby, and marched to aid 
Pickens in the siege of Augusta ; while Cireaie, basing acijuired a 
su})i'>ly o{ arms, anununition, and pro\ isions tVom the captured 
forts, sat down before the fortress k.^{ Ninety Six, o\\ the ii(\ o{ 
INlav. It was the great mart and stronghold o{ the ro\alists, and 
was principally garrisoned by ro\alists from New Jersey and New 
York, commanded by Colonel Cruger, a native of New York. 
The siege lasted for nearly a month. The place was \aliantly de- 
fended. Lee arrixctl with his legion, ha\ing failed before Augusta, 
and in\'ested a stockaded fort which tbrmecl i)art of the works. 

A\'ord was brought that Lord Rawdon was |)ressing forward with 
reinforcements, ami but a tew miles distain on the Saluda. (Ireene 
endeavored to get \\\> Sumter, Marion, and Lickens, to his assis- 
tan(X\ but they were too far on the right o{ Lord Rawdon to form a 
junction. The troops were eager to storm the works before his 
lordship should arrive. A i)artial assault was made on the i8th of 
]une. It was a bloody contest. The stockaded fort was taken, 
but the troops were repulsed from the main works. (Ireene re- 
treated across the Saluda, and haltetl at iUisli river, at twenty 
miles distance, to observe the motion of the enemy. Lord Raw- 
elon entered Ninety Six on the 21st, but sallied forth again t)n the 
24th, taking with him all the troops ca})able of fatigue, two thou- 
sand in number, without wheel carriage of any kintl, or e\eii knap- 
sacks, hoiking by a raind move to overtake C.reene. Want of 
provisions soon obliged him to give up the i)ursuit, and return 
to Ninety Six. Leaving about one-half of his force there, under 
Colonel Cruger, he sallied a second time from Ninety Six, at the 
head of eleven hundred infantr\\ with ca\alrv, artillerv, and field- 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YOKKTOWN. 461 

pieces, marching by the south side of the Saluda for the Con- 
garee. 

He was now pursued in his turn by Greene and Lee. In this 
march more than fifty of his lordship's soldiers fell dead from heat, 
fatigue, and privation. At Orangeburg, where he arrived on the 
8th of July, his lordship was joined by a large detachment under 
Colonel Stuart. Greene had followed him closely, and having 
collected all his detachments, and being joined by Sumter, 
appeared within four miles of Orangeburg, on the loth of July, 
and offered battle. The offer was not accepted, and the position 
of Lord Rawdon was too strong to be attacked. Greene remained 
there two or three days ; when, learning that Colonel Cruger was 
advancing with the residue of the forces from Ninety Six, which 
would again give his lordship a superiority of force, he moved off 
with his infantry on the night of the 13th of July, crossed the 
Saluda, and posted himself on the east side of the Wateree, at the 
high hills of Santee. In this salubrious and delightful region, 
where the air was pure and breezy, and the water delicate, he 
allowed his weary soldiers to repose and refresh themselves, await- 
ing the arrival of some continental troops and militia from North 
Carolina, when he intended to resume his enterprise of driving the 
enemy from the interior of the country. 

In these movements Rawdon had abandoned the interior coun- 
try, and confessed himself outgeneralled and baffled. He sailed 
not long after from Charleston for Europe. Colonel Stuart, who 
was left in command at Orangeburg, moved forward from that 
place, and encamped on the south side of the Congaree river, 
near its junction with the Wateree, and within sixteen miles of 
Greene's position on the high hills of Santee. The two armies lay 
in sight of each other's fires, but two large rivers intervened, to 
secure each party from sudden attack. Both armies, however, 
needed repose, and military operations were suspended, as if by 
mutual consent, during the sultry summer heat. 

The campaign had been a severe and trying one, and checkered 
with vicissitudes ; but Greene had succeeded in regaining the 
greater part of Georgia and the two Carolinas, and, as he said, only 



462 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

wanted a little assistance from the North to complete their recov- 
ery. He was soon rejoiced by a letter from Washington, inform- 
ing him that a detachment from the army of Lafayette might be 
expected to bring him the required assistance ; but he was made 
still more happy by the following cordial passage in the letter : " It 
is with the warmest pleasure I express my full approbation of the 
various movements and operations which your military conduct 
has lately exhibited, while I confess to you that I am unable to 
conceive what more could have been done under your circum- 
stances, than has been displayed by your little, persevering, and 
determined army." 

Washington's March against Cornwallis. — In the summer 
of 1 78 1 a remarkable event occurred, which, when taken prompt 
advantage of by Washington's genius, put an end to the war. 
This event was the temporary loss, by the British, of their control 
over the water ! An immense French fleet, under Count de 
Grasse, was sent to the West Indies, with the view of capturing 
Jamaica ; and for a short time its services were available on the 
coast of the United States. On the 2 2d of May, Washington held 
a conference with Rochambeau at Wethersfield, and it was thought 
best to take advantage of the presence of the French fleet to 
attempt the capture of New York, with Sir Henry Clinton and his 
army. To this end, Rochambeau marched his troops from Rhode 
Island to the Hudson river, where early in July he effected a junc- 
tion with the American army under Washington. Late in July a 
French frigate arrived at Newport, bringing dispatches from the 
Count de Grasse. He was to leave St. Domingo on the 3d of 
August, with between twenty-five and thirty ships of the line, and 
a considerable body of land forces, and to steer immediately for 
the Chesapeake. 

This changed the face of affairs, and called for a change in the 
game. All attempt upon New York was postponed ; the whole 
of the French army, and as large a part of the Americans as could 
be spared, were to move to Virginia, and co-operate with the Count 
de Grasse for the redemption of the Southern States. Washing- 
ton apprised the count and Lafayette of this intention by letter. 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORKTOWN. 463 

Washington's " soul was now in arms." At length, after being 
baffled and disappointed so often by the incompetency of his 
means, and above all, thwarted by the enemy's naval potency, he 
had the possibility of coping with them both on land and sea. 
The contemplated expedition was likely to consummate his plans, 
and wind up the fortunes of the war, and he determined to lead it 
in person. He would take with him something more than two 
thousand of the American army ; the rest, chiefly Northern troops, 
were to remain with General Heath, who was to hold command of 
West Point and the other posts of the Hudson. 

Perfect secrecy was maintained as to this change of plan. 
Preparations were still carried on, as if for an attack upon New 
York. An extensive encampment was marked out in the Jerseys, 
and ovens erected and fuel provided for the baking of bread ; as 
if a part of the besieging force was to be stationed there, thence to 
make a descent upon the enemy's garrison on Staten Island, in aid 
of the operations against the city. The American troops, them- 
selves, were kept in ignorance of their destination. " General 
Washington," observes one of the shrewdest of them, "matures 
his great plans and designs under an impenetrable veil of secrecy, 
and while we repose the fullest confidence in our chief, our opin- 
ions (as to his intentions) must be founded only on doubtful con- 
jecture." 

Previous to his decampment, Washington sent fonvard a party 
of pioneers to clear the roads towards King's Bridge, as if the 
posts recently reconnoitered were about to be attempted. , On the 
19th of August, his troops were paraded with their faces in that 
direction. When all were ready, however, they were ordered to 
face about, and were marched up along the Hudson river towards 
King's Ferry. Rochambeau, in like manner, broke up his en- 
campment, and took the road by White Plains, North Castle, 
Pine's Bridge, and Crompond, toward the same point. All West- 
chester County was again alive with the tramp of troops, the gleam 
of arms, and the lumbering of artillery and baggage wagons along 
its roads. 

Qn the 20th, Washington arrived at King's Ferry, and his 



464 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

troops began to cross the Hudson with their baggage, stores, and 
cannon, and encamp at Haverstraw. On the 2 2d, the French 
troops arrived by their circuitous route, and began to cross to 
Stony Point with their artillery, baggage, and stores. The opera- 
tion occupied between two and three days ; during which time 
Washington took the Count de Rochambeau on a visit to West 
Point, to show him the citadel of the Highlands, an object of 
intense interest, in consequence of its having been the scene of 
Arnold's treason. 

The two armies having safely crossed the Hudson, commenced 
on the 25 th, their several lines of march towards the Jerseys ; the 
Americans for Springfield on the Rahway, the French for Whip- 
pany towards Trenton. Both armies were still kept in the dark as 
to the ultimate object of their movement. 

Washington had in fact reached the Delaware with his troops, 
before Sir Henry Clinton was aware of their destination. It was 
too late to oppose their march, even had his forces been adequate. 
As a kind of counterplot, therefore, and in the hope of distracting 
the attention of the American commander, and drawing off a part 
of his troops, he hurried off an expedition to the eastward, to 
insult the state of Connecticut, and attack her seaport of New 
London. The command of this expedition, which was to be one 
of ravage and destruction, was given to Arnold, as if it was neces- 
sary to complete the measure of his infamy, that he should carry 
fire and sword into his native state, and desecrate the very cradle 
of his infancy. 

On the 6th of September he appeared off the harbor of New 
London with a fleet of ships and transj^orts and a force of two 
thousand infantry and three hundred cavalry ; partly British troops, 
but a great part made up of American loyalists and Hessians. 

New London stands on the west bank of the river Thames. 
The approach to it was defended by two forts on opposite sides of 
the river, and about a mile below the town; Fort Trumbull on 
the west and Fort Griswold on the east side, on a height called 
Groton Hill. The troops landed in two divisions of about eight 
hundred men each ; one under Lieutenant-colonel Eyre on the 




To face page 464. 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH — YORKTOWN. 465 

east side, the other under Arnold on the west, on the same side 
with New London, and about three miles below it. Arnold met 
with but little opposition. The few militia which manned an 
advance battery and Fort Trumbull, abandoned their posts, and 
crossed the river to Fort Griswold. He pushed on and took pos- 
session of the town. 

Colonel Eyre had a harder task. The militia, about one hun- 
dred and fifty-seven strong, had collected in Fort Griswold, hastily 
and imperfectly armed it is true, some of them merely with spears ; 
but they were brave men, and had a brave commander. Colonel 
William Ledyard, brother of the celebrated traveller. The fort 
was square and regularly built. Arnold, unaware of its strength, 
had ordered Colonel Eyre to take it by a coup de main. He dis- 
covered his mistake, and sent counter- orders, but too late. 

Colonel Eyre forced the pickets ; made his way into the fosse, 
and attacked the fort on three sides ; it was bravely defended ; 
the enemy were repeatedly repulsed ; they returned to the assault, 
scrambled up on each other's shoulders, effected a lodgement, and 
made their way with fixed bayonets. Colonel Eyre received a 
mortal wound near the works ; Major Montgomery took his place ; 
a negro thrust him through with a spear as he mounted the para- 
pet ; Major Bromfield succeeded to the command, and carried 
the fort at the point of the bayonet. The enemy, exasperated by 
the stubborn resistance, continued the deadly work of musket and 
bayonet. Seventy of the garrison were slain, and thirty-five des- 
perately wounded; and most of them after the fort had been 
taken. 

Arnold, in the meantime, had carried on the work of destruc- 
tion at New London. Some of the American shipping had 
effected their escape up the river, but a number were burnt. Fire 
was set to the public stores ; it was communicated to the dwell- 
ing-houses, and, in a little while, the whole place was wrapped in 
flames. The destruction was immense : many families once living 
in affluence were ruined and rendered homeless. Having com- 
pleted his ravage, Arnold retreated to his boats, leaving the town 
still burning. Alarm guns had roused the country; the traitor 



466 LIFE OP WASHINGTON. 

was pursued by the exasperated yeomanry; he escaped their 
well- merited vengeance, but several of his men were killed and 
wounded. So ended his career of infamy in his native land ; a 
land which had once delighted to honor him, but in which his 
name was never thenceforth to be pronounced without a maledic- 
tion. 

The expedition, while it added one more hateful and disgrace- 
ful incident to this unnatural war, failed of its main object. It 
had not diverted Washington from the grand object on which he 
had fixed his mind. On the 30th of August, he, with his suite, 
had arrived at Philadelphia about noon, and alighted at the city 
tavern amidst enthusiastic crowds, who welcomed him with accla- 
mations, but wondered at the object of this visit. 

At Philadelphia Washington received dispatches from Lafayette, 
dated the 21st and 24th of August, giving an account of affairs in 
Virginia. 

Yorktown, where Lord Cornwallis had taken his stand, was a 
small place situated on a projecting bank on the south side of 
York river, opposite a promontory called Gloucester Point. The 
river between was not more than a mile wide, but deep enough to 
admit ships of a large size and burden. Here concentrating his 
forces, he had proceeded to fortify the opposite points, calculating 
to have the works finished by the beginning of October ; at which 
time Sir Henry Clinton intended to recommence operations on the 
Chesapeake. Believing that he had no present enemy but Lafay- 
ette to guard against, Cornwallis felt so secure in his position, that 
he wrote to Sir Henry on the 2 2d of August, offering to detach a 
thousand or twelve hundred men to strengthen New York against 
the apprehended attack of the combined armies. 

While Cornwallis, undervaluing his youthful adversary, felt thus 
secure, Lafayette, in conformity to the instructions of Washington, 
was taking measures to cut off any retreat by land which his lord- 
ship might attempt on the arrival of Grasse. With this view 
he called upon the governor of Virginia, for six hundred militia to 
be collected upon the Blackwater ; he detached troops to the south 
of James river, and was prepared himself, as soon as he should 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORKTOWN. 46? 

hear of the arrival of Grasse, to march at once to WilHamsburg 
and form a junction with the troops which were to be landed from 
the fleet. Thus a net was quietly drawn round Cornwallis by the 
youthful general, while the veteran felt himself so secure that he 
was talking of detaching troops to New York. 

Washington left Philadelphia on the 5th of September, on his 
way to the Head of Elk. About three miles below Chester, he 
was met by an express bearing tidings of the arrival of the Count 
de Grasse in the Chesapeake with twenty-eight ships of the line. 
Washington instantly rode back to Chester to rejoice with the 
Count de Rochambeau, who was coming down to that place from 
Philadelphia by water. They had a joyous dinner together, after 
which Washington proceeded in the evening on his destination. 

The express meantime reached Philadelphia most opportunely. 
There had been a grand review of the French troops, at which the 
President of Congress and all the fashion of the city were present. 
It was followed by a banquet given to the officers by the French 
minister, the Chevalier de Luzerne. Scarce were the company 
seated at table, when dispatches came announcing the arrival of 
Grasse and the landing of three thousand troops under the Mar- 
quis de St. Simon, who, it was added, had opened a communication 
with Lafayette. All now was mutual gratulation at the banquet. 
The news soon went forth and spread throughout the city. Accla- 
mations were to be heard on all sides, and crowds assembHng be- 
fore the house of the French Minister rent the air with hearty 
huzzas for Louis XVL 

Washington reached the Head of Elk on the 6th. The troops 
and a great part of the stores were already arrived, and beginning 
to embark. Thence he wrote to the Count de Grasse, felicitating 
him on his arrival, and informing him that the vans of the two 
armies were about to embark and fall down the Chesapeake, form 
a junction with the troops under the Marquis de St. Simon and the 
Marquis de Lafayette, and co-operate in blocking up Cornwallis in 
York river, so as to prevent his retreat by land or his getting any 
suppHes from the country. " As it will be of the greatest impor- 
tance," \\Tites he, " to prevent the escape of his lordship from his 



468 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

present position, I am persuaded that every measure which pru- 
dence can dictate will be adopted for that purpose, until the arrival 
of our complete force, when I hope his lordship will be compelled 
to yield his ground to the superior power of our combined forces." 

Everything had thus far gone on well, but there were not vessels 
enough at the Head of Elk for the immediate transportation of all 
the troops, ordnance, and stores ; a part of the troops would have 
to proceed to Baltimore by land. Washington, accompanied by 
Rochambeau, crossed the Susquehanna early on the 8th, and 
pushed forward for Baltimore. He was met by a deputation of 
the citizens, who made him a pubHc address, to which he replied, 
and his arrival was celebrated in the evening with illuminations. 
On the 9th he left Baltimore a little after daybreak, accom- 
panied only by Colonel Humphreys ; the rest of his suite were to 
follow at their ease ; for himself, he was determined to reach 
Mount Vernon that evening. Six years had elapsed since last he 
was under its roof; six wearing years of toil, of danger, and of 
constant anxiety. During all that time, and amid all his military 
cares, he had kept up a regular weekly correspondence with his 
steward or agent, regulating all the affairs of his rural establish- 
ment with as much exactness as he did those of the army. It 
was a late hour when he arrived at Mount Vernon, where he 
was joined by his suite at dinner-time on the following day, and 
by the Count de Rochambeau in the evening. General Chastellux 
and his aides-de-camp arrived there on the nth, and Mount Ver- 
non was now crowded with guests, who were all entertained in the 
ample style of old Virginian hospitality. On the 12th, tearing 
himself away once more from the home of his heart, Washington 
with his military associates continued onward to join Lafayette 
at Williamsburg. 

Cornwallis entrapped. — Lord Cornwallis had been completely 
roused from his dream of security by the appearance, on the 28th 
of August, of the fleet of Count de Grasse within the Capes of the 
Delaware. Three French ships of the line and a frigate soon 
anchored at the mouth of York river. The boats of the fleet 
were immediately busy conveying three thousand three hundred 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORKTOWN. 469 

land forces, under the Marquis de St. Simon, up James river to 
form the preconcerted junction with Lafayette. 

Awakened to his danger, CornwaUis, as Washington had fore- 
seen, meditated a retreat to the Carohnas. It was too late. York 
river was blocked up by French ships ; James river was filled 
with armed vessels covering the transportation of the troops. His 
lordship reconnoitered Williamsburg ; it was too strong to be forced, 
and Wayne had crossed James river to join his troops to those 
under the marquis. Seeing his retreat cut off in every direction, 
CornwaUis proceeded to strengthen his works ; sending off re- 
peated expresses to apprise Sir Henry Clinton of his perilous 
situation. 

The Count de Grasse, eager to return to the West Indies, urged 
Lafayette to make an immediate attack upon the British army, 
with the American and French troops under his command, with- 
out waiting for the combined force under W^ashington and 
Rochambeau, offering to aid him with marines and sailors from 
the ships. The admiral was seconded by the Marquis de St. 
Simon. They represented that the works at Yorktown were yet 
incomplete ; and that that place and Gloucester, immediately 
opposite, might be carried by storm by their superior force. It 
was a brilliant achievement which they held out to tempt the 
youthful commander, but he remained undazzled. He would not, 
for the sake of personal distinction, lavish the lives of the brave 
men confided to him, but would await the arrival of the combined 
forces, when success might be attained with little loss, and would 
leave to Washington the cottp de grace, — in all probability the clos- 
ing triumph of the war. 

The Count de Grasse had been but a few days anchored within 
the Chesapeake, and fifteen hundred of his seamen were absent, 
conveying the troops up James river, when Admiral Graves, who 
then commanded the British naval force on the American coast, 
appeared with twenty sail off the capes of Virginia. Grasse, 
anxious to protect the squadron of the Count de Barras, which 
was expected from Rhode Island, and which it was the object of 
Graves to intercept, immediately slipped his cables and put to sea 



470 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

with twenty-four ships, leaving the rest to blockade York and 
James rivers. 

Washington received information of the sailing of the fleet from 
the capes, shortly after his departure from Mount Vernon, and 
instantly dispatched missives, ordering the troops who were em- 
barked at the Head of Elk to stop until the receipt of further 
intelhgence, fearing that the navigation in Chesapeake Bay might 
not be secure. For two days he remained in anxious uncertainty, 
until, at Bowling Green, he was relieved by favorable rumors con- 
cerning the fleet, which were confirmed on his arriving at Williams- 
burg on the evening of the 14th. 

Admiral Graves, it appeared, on the sallying forth of the French 
fleet, immediately prepared for action, although he had five ships 
less than Grasse. The latter, however, was not disposed to ac- 
cept the challenge, his force being weakened by the absence of 
so many of his seamen, employed in transporting troops. His 
plan was to occupy the enemy by partial actions and skflful 
manoeuvres, so as to retain his possession of the Chesapeake, and 
cover the arrival of Barras. 

The vans of the two fleets, and some ships of the centre, 
engaged about four o'clock in the afternoon of the 7th of Septem- 
ber. The conflict soon became animated. Several ships were 
damaged, and many men killed and wounded on both sides. 
Grasse, who had the advantage of the wind, drew off after 
sunset ; satisfied with the damage done and sustained, and not 
disposed for a general action ; nor was the British admiral in- 
clined to push the engagement so near night, and on a hostile 
coast. Among his ships that had sufl"ered, one had been so 
severely handled, that she was no longer seaworthy, and had to be 
burnt. For four days the fleets remained in sight of each other, 
repairing damages and manoeuvring ; but the French having stiU 
the advantage of the wind, maintained their prudent policy of 
avoiding a general engagement. At length Grasse, learning that 
Barras was arrived within the capes, formed a junction with 
him, and returned with him to his former anchoring ground, with 
two English frigates which he had captured. Admiral Graves, 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YOKKTOWN. 471 

disappointed in his hope of intercepting Barras, and finding the 
Chesapeake guarded by a superior force with which he could 
not prudently contend, left the coast and bore away for New York. 

On the 1 8th Washington and Rochambeau proceeded down 
James river, and came next morning in sight of the French fleet 
riding at anchor in Lynn Haven Bay. About noon they got along- 
side of the admiral's ship, the Ville de Ptwis, and were received 
on board with great ceremony, and naval and military parade. 
Admiral de Grasse was a tall, fine-looking man, plain in his 
address and prompt in the discharge of business. A plan of 
co-operation was soon arranged, to be carried into effect on the 
arrival of the American and French armies from the North, which 
were actually on their way down the Chesapeake from the Head 
of Elk. Business being dispatched, dinner was served, after which 
they were conducted throughout the ship, and received the visits 
of the officers of the fleet, almost aU of whom came on board. 

About sunset Washington and his companions took their leave 
of the admiral. Owing to storms and contrary winds, the party 
did not reach Williamsburg until the 2 2d, when intelligence was 
received that threatened to disconcert all the plans formed in the 
recent council on board ship. Admiral Digby, it appeared, had 
arrived in New York with six ships of the line and a reinforcement 
of troops. This intelligence Washington instantly transmitted to 
the Count de Grasse, who in reply expressed great concern, 
observing that the position of affairs was changed by the arrival of 
Digby. "The enemy," writes he, "is now nearly equal to us in 
strength, and it would be imprudent in me to place myself in a 
situation that would prevent my attacking them should they attempt 
to afford succor." He proposed, therefore, to leave two vessels at 
the mouth of York river, and the corvettes and frigates in James 
river, which, with the French troops on shore, would be sufficient 
assistance ; and to put to sea with the rest, either to intercept the 
enemy and fight them where there was good sea room, or to block- 
ade them in New York should they not have sailed. 

On reading this letter, Washington dreaded that the present 
plan of co-operation might likewise fall through, and the fruits of 



472 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

all his schemes and combinations be lost when within his reach. 
With the assistance of the fleet the reduction of Yorktown was 
demonstrably certain, and the surrender of the garrison must go 
flir to terminate the war ; whereas the departure of the ships, by 
leaving an opening for succor to the enemy, might frustrate these 
brilliant prospects and involve the whole enterprise in ruin and 
disgrace. Even a momentary absence of the French fleet might 
enable Cornwallis to evacuate Yorktown and effect a retreat, with 
the loss merely of his baggage and artillery, and perhaps a few 
soldiers. These and other considerations were urged in a letter to 
the count, remonstrating against his putting to sea. Lafayette was 
the bearer of the letter, and seconded it with so many particulars 
respecting the situation of the armies, and argued the case so 
earnestly and elocjuently, that the count consented to remain. 
By the 25 th the American and French troops were mostly arrived 
and encamped near Williamsburg, and preparations were made for 
the decisive blow. 

Yorktown, as already noted, is situated on the south side of 
York river, immediately opposite Gloucester Point. Cornwallis 
had fortified the town with seven redoubts and six batteries on the 
land side, connected by entrenchments, and there was a line of 
batteries along the river. The town was flanked on each side by 
deep ravines and creeks emptying into York river ; their heads, in 
front of the town, being not more than half a mile apart. The 
enemy had availed themselves of these natural defences in the 
arrangement of extensive outworks, with redoubts mounted with 
cannon, and trees cut down and left with the branches pointed 
outward. Gloucester Point had likewise been fortified, its batteries, 
with those of Yorktown, commanding the intervening river. Ships 
of war were likewise stationed on it, protected by the guns of the 
forts, and the channel was obstructed by sunken vesselSo The 
defence of Gloucester Point was confided to Lieutenant-colonel 
Dundas, with six or seven hundred men. The enemy's main army 
was encamped about Yorktown, within the range of the outer 
redoubts and field-works. 

Washington and his staff bivouacked that night on the ground 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORKTOWN. 473 

in the open air. He slept under a mulberry tree, the root serving 
for his pillow. On the following morning the two armies drew out 
on each side of Beaver Dam Creek. The Americans, forming the 
right wing, took station on the east side of the creek ; the French, 
forming the left wing, on the west. That evening Cornwallis re- 
ceived dispatches from Sir Henry Clinton, informing him of the 
arrival of Admiral Digby, and that a fleet of twenty-three ships of 
the line, with about five thousand troops, would sail to his assist- 
ance probably on the 5 th of October. A heavy firing would be 
made by them on arriving at the entrance of the Chesapeake. On 
hearing it, if all went on well at Yorktown, his lordship was to 
make three separate columns of smoke ; and four, should he still 
possess the post at Gloucester Point. 

Cornwallis immediately wrote in reply : '' I have ventured these 
last two days to look General Washington's whole force in the face 
in the position on the outside of my works, and have the pleasure 
to assure your Excellency that there is but one wish throughout 
the army, which is that the enemy would advance. ... I shall 
retire this night within the works, and have no doubt, if relief 
arrives in any reasonable time, York and Gloucester will be both 
in the possession of His Majesty's troops. I believe your Excel- 
lency must depend more on the sound of our cannon than the 
signal of smokes for information ; however, I will attempt it on 
the Gloucester side." 

That night his lordship accordingly abandoned his outworks, 
and drew his troops within the town, — a measure strongly cen- 
sured by Tarleton in his Commentaries as premature ; as coop- 
ing up the troops in narrow quarters, and giving up a means of 
disputing, inch by inch, the approaches of the besiegers, and thus 
gaining time to complete the fortifications of the town. The out- 
works thus abandoned were seized the next morning by detach- 
ments of American light infantry, and ser\^ed to cover the troops 
employed in throwing up breastworks. Colonel x-Mexander Scam- 
mel, officer of the day, while reconnoitering the ground abandoned 
by the enemy, was set upon by a party of Hessian troopers. He 
attempted to escape, but was wounded, captured, and carried off. 



474 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The combined French and American forces were now twelve 
thousand strong, exckisive of the Virginia mihtia. On the morn- 
ing of the 28th of September they marched from Wilhamsburg 
toward Yorktown, about tweh^e miles distant, and encamped at 
night within two miles of it, driving in the pickets and some 
patrols of cavalry. By the first of October the line of the be- 
siegers, nearly two miles from the works, formed a semicircle, each 
end resting on the river, so that the investment by land was 
complete ; while the Count de Grasse, with the main fleet, re- 
mained in Lynn Haven Bay to keep off assistance by sea. 

At this momentous time, when the first parallel before the be- 
sieged camp was about to be opened, Washington received dis- 
patches from his faithful coadjutor, General Greene, giving him 
important intelligence of his co-operations in the South ; to con- 
sider which we will suspend for a moment our narrative of affairs 
before Yorktown. 

Battle of Eutaw Springs. — For some weeks Greene had re- 
mained encamped with his main force on the high hills of Santee, 
refreshing and disciplining his men. On the 2 2d of August he 
broke up his encampment, to march against Colonel Stuart. The 
latter still lay encamped about sixteen miles distant in a straight 
line ; but the Congaree and Wateree lay between, bordered by 
swamps overflowed by recent rains. To cross them and reach the 
hostile camp, it was necessary to make a circuit of seventy miles. 
While Greene was making it, Stuart abandoned his position, and 
moved down forty miles to the vicinity of Eutaw Springs, where 
he was reinforced by a detachment from Charleston with pro- 
visions. 

Greene followed by easy marches. He had been joined by 
Pickens with a party of militia, and by the state troops under 
Lieutenant-colonel Henderson ; and now moved slowly to give 
time for Marion, who was scouring the country about the Edisto, 
to rejoin him. This was done on the 5th of September at Lau- 
rens' place, within seventeen miles of Stuart's camp. Here bag- 
gage, tents, everything that could impede motion, was left behind, 
and on the afternoon of the seventh the army was pushed on 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORKTOWN. 475 

within seven miles of the Eutaws, where it bivouacked for the night. 
At four o'clock in the morning his little army was in motion. 
His whole force did not exceed two thousand men ; that of the 
enemy was about twenty-three hundred. The Americans, however, 
were superior in cavalry. Owing to the difficulty of receiving 
information, the enemy were not aware of Greene's approach until 
he was close upon them. 

His army advanced in two columns, which were to form the 
two lines of battle. Within four miles of Eutaw they met with a 
small British detachment, sent forward to reconnoiter ; it was put 
to flight after a severe skirmish. Supposing this to be the van of 
the enemy, Greene halted his columns and formed. The South 
Carolinians in equal divisions formed the right and left of the first 
line, the North Carolinians the centre. General Marion com- 
manded the right ; General Pickens, the left ; Colonel Malmedy, 
the centre. Colonel Henderson with the state troops covered the 
left of the line ; Colonel Lee with his legion, the right. Of the 
second line, composed of regulars, the North Carolinians, under 
General Sumner, were on the right ; the Marylanders, under Colo- 
nel Williams, on the left ; the Virginians, under Colonel Camp- 
bell, in the centre. Colonel Washington with his cavalry followed 
in the rear as a corps de reserve. Two three-pounders moved on 
the road in the centre of the first line. Two six-pounders in a 
like position in the second line. 

In this order the troops moved forward, keeping their lines as 
well as they could through open woods, which covered the coun- 
try on each side of the road. Within a mile of the camp they 
encountered a body of infantry thrown forward by Colonel Stuart, 
to check their advance while he had time to form his troops in 
order of battle. These were drawn up in line in a wood two hundred 
yards west of Eutaw Springs. The right rested on Eutaw Creek, 
and was covered by a battalion of grenadiers and infantry under 
Major Majoribanks, partly concealed among thickets on the mar- 
gin of the stream. The left of the line extended across the 
Charleston road, with a reserve corps in a commanding situation 
covering the road. About fifty yards in the rear of the British line 



476 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

was a cleared field, in which was their encampment, with the tents 
all standing. Adjoining it was a brick house with a palisadoed 
garden which Colonel Stuart intended as a protection, if too much 
pressed by cavalry. 

The advanced party of infantry, which had retired firing before 
the Americans, formed on the flanks of Colonel Stuart's line. The 
Carolinian militia had pressed after them. About nine o'clock 
the action was commenced by the left of the American line, and 
soon became general. The militia fought for a time with the spirit 
and firmness of regulars. Their two field-pieces were dismounted ; 
so was one of the enemy's ; and there was great carnage on both 
sides. The militia fought until they had expended seventeen 
rounds, when they gave way, covered by Lee and Henderson, who 
fought bravely on the flanks on the line. 

Sumner, with the regulars who formed the second line, advanced 
in fine style to take the place of the first. The enemy likewise 
brought their reserve into action; the conflict continued to be 
bloody and severe. Colonel Henderson, who commanded the 
state troops in the second line, was severely wounded ; this caused 
some confusion. Sumner's brigade, formed parUy of recruits, gave 
way under the superior fire of the enemy. The British rushed for- 
ward to secure their fancied victory. Greene, seeing their line 
disordered, instantly ordered Williams with his Marylanders to 
" sweep the field with the bayonet." Williams was seconded by 
Colonel Campbell with the Virginians. The order was gallantly 
obeyed. They delivered a deadly vofley at forty yards' distance, 
and then advanced at a brisk rate, with loud shouts and trailed 
arms, prepared to make the deadly thrust. The British recoiled. 
While the Marylanders and Virginians attacked them in front, Lee 
with his legion turned their left flank and charged them in rear. 
Colonel Hampton with the state cavalry made a great number of 
prisoners, and Colonel Washington, coming up with his reserve of 
horse and foot, completed their defeat. They were driven back 
through their camp ; many were captured ; many fled along the 
Charleston road, and others threw themselves into the brick house. 

Major Majoribanks and his troops could still enfilade the left 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORKTOWN. 477 

flank of the Americans from their covert among the thickets on 
the border of the stream. Greene ordered Colonel Washington 
with his dragoons and Kirkwood's Delaware infantry to dislodge 
them, and Colonel Wade Hampton to assist with the state troops. 
Colonel Washington, without waiting for the infantry, dashed for- 
ward with his dragoons. It was a rash move. The thickets were 
impervious to cavalry. The dragoons separated into small squads, 
and endeavored to force their way in. Horses and riders were 
shot down or bayoneted ; most of the officers were either killed or 
wounded. Colonel W^ashington had his horse shot under him ; he 
himself was bayoneted, and would have been slain, had not a 
British officer interposed, and taken him prisoner. By the time 
Hampton and Kirkwood came up, the cavalry were routed ; the 
ground was strewed with the dead and the wounded ; horses 
were plunging and struggling in the agonies of death ; others 
were galloping about without their riders. While Hampton rallied 
the scattered cavalry, Kirkwood's Delawares charged with bay- 
onets upon the enemy in the thicket. Majoribanks fell back with 
his troops and made a stand in the palisadoed garden of the brick 
house. 

Victory now seemed certain on the side of the Americans. 
They had driven the British from the field, and had taken posses- 
sion of their camp ; unfortunately, the soldiers, thinking the day 
their own, fell to plundering the tents, devouring the food and 
carousing on the liquors found there. Many of them became in- 
toxicated and unmanageable — the officers interfered in vain ; all 
was riot and disorder. 

The enemy in the meantime recovered from their confusion 
and opened a fire from every window of the house and from the 
palisadoed garden. There was a scattering fire also from the 
woods and thickets on the right and left. Four cannon, one of 
which had been captured from the enemy, were now advanced by 
the Americans to batter the house. The fire from the windows 
was so severe, that most of the officers and men who served the 
cannon were either killed or wounded. Greene ordered the sur- 
vivors to retire ; they did so, leaving the cannon behind. 



478 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Colonel Stuart was by this time rallying his left wing, and ad- 
vancing to support the right ; when Greene, finding his ammunition 
nearly exhausted, determined to give . up the attempt to dislodge 
the enemy from their places of refuge, since he could not do it 
without severe loss ; whereas the enemy could maintain their posts 
but a few hours, and he should have a better opportunity of attack- 
ing them on their retreat. He remained on the ground long enough 
to collect his wounded, excepting those who were too much under 
the fire of the house, and then, leaving Colonel Hampton with 
a strong picket on the field, he returned to the position seven 
miles off which he had left in the morning, not finding water 
anywhere nearer. 

The enemy decamped in the night after destroying a large 
quantity of provisions, staving many barrels of rum, and breaking 
upwards of a thousand stand of arms which they threw into the 
springs of the Eutaw ; they left behind also seventy of their 
wounded, who might have impeded the celerity of their retreat. 
Their loss in killed, wounded, and captured, in this action, was 
six hundred and thirty-three, of whom five hundred were prisoners 
in the hands of the Americans ; the loss sustained by the latter in 
killed, wounded, and missing, was five hundred and thirty- five. 
Stuart met with reinforcements about fourteen miles from Eutaw, 
but continued his retreat to Monk's Corner, within twenty-five 
miles of Charleston. Greene pursued him almost to Monk's 
Corner ; finding the number and position of the enemy too strong 
to be attacked with prudence, he fell back to Eutaw, where he re- 
mained a day or two to rest his troops, and then returned by easy 
marches to his old position near the heights of Santee. 

The victory at Eutaw Springs, incomplete as it was, finished the 
overthrow of the enemy in South Carolina. Hereafter the British 
were practically cooped up in Charleston. 

Surrender of Cornwallis. — General Lincoln had the honor on 
the night of the 6th of October, 1781, of opening the first parallel 
before Yorktown. It was within six hundred yards of the enemy ; 
nearly two miles in extent, and the foundations were laid for two 
redoubts. He had under him a large detachment of French and 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORK TOWN. 479 

American troops, and the work was conducted with such silence in 
a night of extreme darkness, that the enemy were not aware of it 
until daylight. A severe cannonade was then opened from the 
fortifications ; but the men were under cover and continued work- 
ing — the greatest emulation and good will prevailing between the 
officers and soldiers of the allied armies thus engaged. 

By the afternoon of the 9th the parallel was completed, and two 
or three batteries were ready to fire upon the town. '' General 
Washington put the match to the first gun," says an observer who 
was present ; " a furious discharge of cannon and mortars immedi- 
ately followed, and Earl Cornwallis received his first salutation." 
The cannonade was kept up almost incessantly for three or four 
days from the batteries above mentioned, and from three others 
managed by the French. The half-finished works of the enemy 
suffered severely, the guns were dismounted or silenced, and many 
men killed. The red-hot shot from the French batteries north- 
west of the town reached the English shipping. The Charo?t, 
a forty-four-gun ship, and three large transports, were set on fire by 
them. The flames ran up the rigging to the tops of the masts. 
The conflagration, seen in the darkness of the night, with the ac- 
companying flash and thundering of cannon, and soaring and 
bursting of shells, and the tremendous explosions of the ships, all 
presented a scene of mingled magnificence and horror. 

On the night of the nth the second parallel was opened by 
Steuben's division, within three hundred yards of the works. The 
British now made new embrasures, and for two or three days kept 
up a galling fire upon those at work. The latter were still more 
annoyed by the flanking fire of two redoubts three hundred yards 
in front of the British works. As they enfiladed the entrench- 
ments, and were supposed also to command the communication 
between Yorktown and Gloucester, it was resolved to storm them 
both, on the night of the 14th ; the one nearest the river by a de- 
tachment of Americans commanded by Lafayette ; ihe other by a 
French detachment led by the Baron de Viomenil. The grenadiers 
of the regiment of Gatinais were to be at the head of the French 
detachment. This regiment had been formed out of that of 



480 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

Auvergne, of which Rochambeau had been colonel, and which, 
by its brave and honorable conduct, had won the appellation of 
the regiment d' Auvergne sans tache (Auvergne without a stain) . 

About eight o'clock in the evening rockets were sent up as sig- 
nals for the simultaneous attack. Hamilton led the advance of 
the Americans. The men, without waiting for the sappers to de- 
molish the abatis in regular style, pushed them aside or pulled 
them down with their hands, and scrambled over, like rough bush- 
fighters. Hamilton was the first to mount the parapet, placing 
one foot on the shoulder of a soldier, who knelt on one knee for 
the purpose. The men mounted after him. Not a musket was 
fired. The redoubt was carried at the point of the bayonet. Not 
a man was killed after he ceased to resist. 

The French stormed the other redoubt, which was more strongly 
garrisoned, with equal gallantry, but less precipitation. They 
proceeded according to rule. The soldiers paused while the 
sappers removed the abatis, during which time they were ex- 
posed to a destructive fire, and lost more men than did the 
Americans in their headlong attack. As the Baron de Viomenil, 
who led the party, was thus waiting, Major Barbour, Lafayette's 
aide-de-camp, came through the tremendous fire of the enemy, 
with a message from the marquis, letting him know that he was in 
his redoubt, and wished to know where the baron was. " Tell the 
marquis," rephed the latter, '' that I am not in mine, but will be 
in it in five minutes." 

X Washington was an intensely excited spectator of these assaults, 
on the result of which so much depended. He had dismounted, 
given his horse to a servant, and taken his stand in the grand bat- 
tery with generals Knox and Lincoln and their staffs. The risk he 
ran of a chance shot, while watching the attack through an em- 
brasure, made those about him uneasy. One of his aides-de-camp 
ventured to observe that the situation was very much exposed. 
"If you think so," replied he gravely, "you are at liberty to step 
back." Shortly afterwards a musket-ball struck the cannon in the 
embrasure, rolled along it, and fell at his feet. General Knox 
grasped his arm. " My dear general," exclaimed he, "we can't 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH — YORKTOIVN. 481 

spare you yet." " It is a spent ball/' replied Washington quietly ; 
" no harm is done." When all was over, and the redoubts were 
taken, he drew a long breath, and turning to Knox, observed, 
"The work is done, and well done I " Then called to his servant, 
"William, bring me my horse. "j 

The redoubts thus taken were included the same night in the 
second parallel, and howitzers were mounted upon them the fol- 
lowing day. The capture of them reduced Lord Cornwallis almost 
to despair. Had the fleet and army sailed, as he had been given 
to expect, about the 5th of October, they might have arrived in 
time to save his lordship ; but at the date of the above letter they 
were still lingering in port. The second parallel was now nearly 
ready to open. Cornwallis dreaded the effect of its batteries on 
his almost dismantled works. At this time the garrison could not 
show a gun on the side of the works exposed to attack, and the 
shells were nearly expended ; the place was no longer tenable. 
Rather than surrender, Cornwallis determined to attempt an es- 
cape. His plan was to leave his sick and wounded and his bag- 
gage behind, cross over in the night to Gloucester Point, push for 
the upper country by rapid marches until opposite the fords of the 
great rivers, then turn suddenly northward, force his way through 
Maryland, Pennsylvania, and the Jerseys, and join Sir Henry Clin- 
ton in New York. 

It was a wild and daring scheme, but his situation was desper- 
ate, and the idea of surrender intolerable. In pursuance of the 
design, sixteen large boats were secretly prepared ; a detachment 
was appointed to remain and capitulate for the town's people, the 
sick, and the wounded ; a large part of the troops were transported 
to the Gloucester side of the river before midnight, and the second 
division had actually embarked, when a violent storm of wind and 
rain scattered the boats, and drove them a considerable distance 
down the river. They were collected with difficulty. It was now 
too late to effect the passage of the second division before daybreak, 
and an effort was made to get back the division which had already 
crossed. It w^as not done until the morning was far advanced, and 
the troops in recrossing were exposed to the fire of the American 
batteries. 



482 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The hopes of Lord CornwalHs were now at an end. His works 
were tumbling in ruins about him, under an incessant cannonade ; 
his garrison was exhausted by constant watching and severe duty. 
UnwilHng to expose the residue of his brave troops to the dangers 
and horrors of an assault, he ordered a parley to be beaten about 
ten o'clock on the morning of the i yth, and dispatched a flag with 
a letter to Washington proposing a cessation of hostilities for 
twenty-four hours, and that two officers might be appointed by 
each side to meet and settle terms for the surrender of the posts 
of Yorktown and Gloucester. 

Washington felt unwilling to grant such delay, when reinforce- 
ments might be on the way for Cornwallis from New York. In 
reply, therefore, he requested that, previous to the meeting of com- 
missioners, his lordship's proposals might be sent in writing to the 
American lines, for which purpose a suspension of hostilities dur- 
ing two hours from the delivery of the letter, would be granted. 
This was complied with ; but as the proposals offered by Cornwal- 
lis were not all admissible, Washington drew up a schedule of such 
terms as he would grant, and transmitted it to his lordship. 

The armistice was prolonged. Commissioners met, and after 
much discussion, a rough draft was made of the terms of capitula- 
tion to be submitted to the British general. These Washington 
caused to be promptly transcribed, and sent to Lord Cornwallis 
early in the morning of the 19th, with a note expressing his expec- 
tation that they would be signed by eleven o'clock, and that the 
garrison would be ready to march out by two o'clock in the after- 
noon. Lord Cornwallis was fain to comply, and, accordingly, 
on the same day, the posts of Yorktown and Gloucester were sur- 
rendered to General Washington as commander-in-chief of the 
combined army ; and the ships of war, transports, and other ves- 
sels, to the Count de Grasse, as commander of the French fleet. 
The garrisons of Yorktown and Gloucester, including the officers of 
the navy and seamen of every denomination, were to surrender as 
prisoners of war to the combined army ; the land force to remain 
prisoners to the United States, the seamen to the King of France. 

The number of prisoners made by this capitulation amounted 



SECOND GREAT TRIUMPH— YORK TOWN. 483 

to 7073, of whom 5950 were rank and file. The loss sustained 
by the garrison during the siege, in killed, wounded, and missing, 
amounted to 552. That of the combined army in killed was 
about 300. The combined army to which Cornwallis surrendered, 
was estimated at 16,000, of whom 7000 were French, 5500 Con- 
tinentals, and 3500 miHtia. 

Cornwallis felt deeply the humiliation of this close to all his 
wide and wild campaigning, and was made more sensitive on the 
subject by circumstances of which he soon became apprised. On 
the very day that he had been compelled to lay down his arms 
before Yorktown, the lingering armament intended for his relief 
sailed from New York. It consisted of twenty-five ships of the 
line, two fifty-gun ships, and eight frigates; with Sir Henry Clinton 
and seven thousand of his best troops. Sir Henry arrived off the 
Capes of Virginia on the 24th, and gathered information which led 
him to apprehend that Lord Cornwallis had capitulated. He 
hovered off the mouth of the Chesapeake until the 29th, when, hav- 
ing fully ascertained that he had come too late, he turned his 
tardy prows toward New York. 

Y In the meantime, the rejoicings which Washington had com- 
liienced with appropriate solemnities in the victorious camp, had 
spread throughout the Union. " Cornwallis is taken ! " was the 
universal acclaim. It was considered a death-blow to the war. 
Congress gave way to transports of joy. Thanks were voted 
to the commander-in-chief, to Rochambeau and Grasse, to the 
officers of the aUied armies generally, and to the corps of artillery 
and engineers especially. Finally, Congress issued a proclamation, 
appointing a day for general thanksgiving and prayer, in acknowl- 
edgment of this signal interposition of Divine Providence. 

Far different was the feeling of the British ministry when news 
of the event reached the other side of the x\tlantic. Lord George 
Germaine was the first to announce it to Lord North at his office 
in Downing Street. "And how did he take it?" was the inquiry. 
" As he would have taken a ball in the breast," replied Lord , 
George, " for he opened his arms, exclaiming wildly as he paced 
up and down the apartment, * O God ! it is all over ! ' " 



484 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 

§ II. Return of Peace. 

Last Incidents of the War. —A dissolution of the combined 
forces now took place. The Marquis de St. Simon embarked his 
troops on the last of October, and the Count de Grasse made sail 
on the 4th of November, taking with him two beautiful horses 
which Washington had presented to him in token of cordial re- 
gard. Lafayette, seeing there was no probabihty of further active 
service at present, returned to France on a visit to his family. 
The British prisoners were marched to Winchester in Virginia and 
Frederick in Maryland, and Lord Cornwallis and his principal 
officers sailed for New York on parole. 

The main part of the American army embarked for the Head of 
Elk, and returned northward under the command of General 
Lincoln, to be cantoned for the winter in the Jerseys and on the 
Hudson. The French army remained for the winter in Virginia, 
and the Count de Rochambeau estabhshed his head-quarters at 
Williamsburg. Washington himself, after spending the winter in 
Philadelphia with Congress, set out in March to rejoin the army 
at Newburgh on the Hudson river. 

Sir Guy Carleton arrived in New York early in May to take the 
place of Sir Henry Clinton. Great discontents prevailed at this time 
in the American army, among both officers and men. The neglect 
of the states to furnish their proportions of the sum voted by Con- 
gress for the prosecution of the war, had left the army almost 
destitute. There was scarce money sufficient to feed the troops 
from day to day ; indeed, there were days when they were abso- 
lutely in want of provisions. The pay of the officers, too, was 
greatly in arrear ; many of them doubted whether they would ever 
receive the half-pay decreed to them by Congress for a term of 
years after the conclusion of the war, and fears began to be ex- 
pressed that, in the event of peace, they would all be disbanded 
with their claims unliquidated, and themselves cast upon the 
community penniless, and unfitted, by long military habit, for the 
gainful pursuits of peace. 

At this juncture Washington received an extraordinary letter 



RETURN OF PEACE. 48."; 

from Colonel Lewis Nicola, a veteran officer, once commandant 
of Fort Mifflin, who had been in habits of intimacy with him, and 
had warmly interceded in behalf of the suffering army. In this 
letter he attributed all the ills experienced and anticipated by the 
army and the public at large, to the existing form of government. 
He condemned a republican form as incompatible with national 
prosperity, and advised a mixed government like that of England ; 
which, he had no doubt, on its benefits being properly pointed 
out, would be readily adopted. " In that case," he adds, " it will, 
I believe, be uncontroverted, that the same abilities which have 
led us through difficulties apparently insurmountable by human 
power, to victory and glory ; those qualities that have merited and 
obtained the universal esteem and veneration of an army, would 
be most likely to conduct and direct us in the smoother paths of 
peace. Some people have so connected the idea of tyranny and 
monarchy, as to find it very difficult to separate them. It may, 
therefore, be requisite to give the head of such a constitution as I 
propose, some title apparently more moderate ; but, if all other 
things were once adjusted, I beHeve strong arguments might be 
produced for admitting the title of King, which, I conceive, would 
be attended with some material advantages." 

Washington saw at once that Nicola was but the organ of a 
military faction, disposed to make the army the basis of an ener- 
getic government, and to place him at the head. The suggestion, 
backed by the opportunity, might have tempted a man of meaner 
ambition : from him it drew the following indignant letter : — 

"With a mixture of great surprise and astonishment, I have 
read with attention the sentiments you have submitted to my 
perusal. Be assured, sir, no occurrence in the course of the war 
has given me more painful sensations than your information of 
there being such ideas existing in the army, as you have expressed, 
and I must view them with abhorrence, and reprehend them with 
severity. For the present, the communication of them will rest in 
my own bosom, unless some further agitation of the matter shall 
make a disclosure necessary. 

" I am much at a loss to conceive what part of my conduct could 



486 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

have given encouragement to an address, which to me seems 
big with the greatest mischiefs that can befall my country. If 
I am not deceived in the knowledge of myself, you could not have 
found a person to whom your schemes are more disagreeable. At 
the same time, in justice to my own feelings, I must add, that no 
man possesses a more sincere wish to see ample justice done to 
the army than I do ; and as far as my powers and influence, in a 
constitutional way, extend, they shall be employed to the utmost 
of my abilities to effect it, should there be any occasion. Let me 
conjure you, then, if you have any regard for your country, con- 
cern for yourself, or posterity, or respect for me, to banish these 
thoughts from your mind, and never communicate, as from yourself 
or any one else, a sentiment of the like nature." 

At length arrived the wished-for news of peace. A general 
treaty was signed at Paris on the 20th of January, 1783. An 
armed vessel, the lyiujiiph, belonging to the Count d'Estaing's 
squadron, arrived at Philadelphia from Cadiz, on the 23d of 
March, bringing a letter from the Marquis de Lafayette to the 
President of Congress, communicating the intelligence. In a few 
days Sir Guy Carleton informed Washington by letter, that he was 
ordered to proclaim a cessation of hostilities by sea and land. 

A similar proclamation issued by Congress, was received by 
Washington on the 17th of April. On the 19th Congress resolved 
that the service of the men engaged in the war did not expire 
until the ratification of the definitive articles of peace ; but that 
the commander-in-chief might grant furloughs to such as he 
thought proper, and that they should be allowed to take their arms 
,with them. Washington availed himself freely of this permission : 
furloughs were granted without stint ; the men set out singly or in 
small parties for their rustic homes, and the danger and incon- 
venience were avoided of disbanding large masses, at a time, of 
unpaid soldiery. Now and then were to be seen three or four in 
a group, bound probably to the same neighborhood, beguihng the 
way with camp jokes and camp stories. The war-worn soldier 
was always kindly received at the farm-houses along the road, 
where he might shoulder his gun and fight over his batdes. The 



RETURN OF PEACE. 4§7 

men thus dismissed on furlough were never called upon to rejoin 
the army. Once at home, they sank into domestic life ; their 
weapons were hung up over their fire-places, military trophies of 
the Revolution to be prized by future generations. 

In the meantime Sir Guy Carleton was making preparations for 
the evacuation of the city of New York. The moment he had 
received the royal order for the cessation of hostilities, he had 
written for all the shipping that could be procured from Europe 
and the West Indies. As early as the 27th of April a fleet had 
sailed for different parts of Nova Scotia, carrying off about seven 
thousand persons, with all their effects. A great part of these 
were troops, but many were loyalists, exiled by the laws of the 
United States. They looked forward with a dreary eye to their 
voyage, " bound," as one of them absurdly said, " to a country 
where there were nine months of winter and three months of 
cold weather every year." 

By a proclamation of Congress, dated i8th of October, all offi- 
cers and soldiers absent on furlough were discharged from further 
service ; and all others who had engaged to serve during the war, 
were to be discharged from and after the 3d of November. A 
small force only, composed of those who had enlisted for a definite 
time, were to be retained in service until the peace establishment 
should be organized. 

Notwithstanding every exertion had been made for the evacua- 
tion of New York, such was the number of persons and the quan- 
tity of effects of all kinds to be conveyed away, that the month of 
November was far advanced before it could be completed. \ On 
the morning of the 25th the American- troops moved from Harlem 
to the Bowery at the upper part of the city. There they remained 
until the troops in that quarter were withdrawn, when they 
marched into the city and took possession, the British embarking 
from the lower parts. A formal entry then took place of the 
military and civil authorities. General Washington and Governor 
Chnton, with their suites, on horseback, led the procession, 
escorted by a troop of Westchester cavalry. Then came the lieu- 
tenant-governor and members of the council. General Knox and 



488 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the officers of the army, the speaker of the Assembly, and a large 
number of citizens on horseback and on foot. 

An American lady, who was at that time very young and had 
resided during the latter part of the war in the city, has given us 
an account of the striking contrast between the American and 
British troops. "We had been accustomed for a long time," said 
she, " to military display in all the finish and finery of garrison life ; 
the troops just leaving us were as if equipped for show, and with 
their scarlet uniforms and burnished arms made a brilliant display ; 
the troops that marched in, on the contrary, were ill-clad and 
weather-beaten, and made a forlorn appearance ; but then they 
were our troops, and as I looked at them, and thought upon all 
they had done and suffered for us, my heart and my eyes were full, 
and I admired and gloried in them the more, because they were 
weather-beaten and forlorn." 

The city was now a scene of pubHc festivity and rejoicing. The 
governor gave banquets to the French ambassador, the com- 
mander-in-chief, the military and civil officers, and a large number 
of the most eminent citizens, and at night the public were enter- 
tained by splendid fireworks. In the course of a few days 
Washington prepared to depart for Annapohs, where Congress 
was assembling, with the intention of asking leave to resign his 
command. A barge was in waiting about noon on the 4th of 
December at Whitehall Ferry to convey him across the Hudson 
to Paulus Hook. The principal officers of the army assembled 
at Fraunces' Tavern in the neighborhood of the ferry, to take 
a final leave of him. On entering the room, and finding himself 
surrounded by his old companions in arms, who had shared with 
him so many scenes of hardship, difficulty, and danger, his agitated 
feelings overcame his usual self-command.^ Filling a glass of wine, 
and turning upon them his benignant but saddened countenance, 
"With a heart full of love and gratitude," said he, "I now take 
leave of you, most devoutly wishing that your latter days may be 
as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been glorious 
and honorable." Having drunk this farewell benediction, he 
added with emotion, " I cannot come to each of you to take 



RETURN OF PEACE. 439 

my leave, but shall be obliged if each of you will come and take 
me by the hand." \ 

, General Knox, who was nearest, was the first to advance. 
Washington, affected even to tears, grasped his hand and gave 
him a brother's embrace. In the same affectionate manner he 
took leave severally of the rest. Not a word was spoken. The 
deep feeling and manly tenderness of these veterans in the parting 
moment could find no utterance in words. Silent and solemn 
they followed their loved commander as he left the room, passed 
through a corps of light infantry, and proceeded on foot to White- 
hall Ferry..' Having entered the barge, he turned to them, took 
off his hat and waved a silent adieu. They replied in the same 
manner, and having watched the barge until the intervening point 
of the Battery shut it from sight, returned, still solemn and silent, 
to the place where they had assembled. 

On his way to x\nnapolis, Washington stopped for a few days 
at Philadelphia, where with his usual exactness in matters of busi- 
ness, he adjusted with the Comptroller of the Treasury his accounts 
from the commencement of the war down to the 13th of the actual 
month of December. These were all in his own handwriting, and 
kept in the clearest and most accurate manner, each entry being 
accompanied by a statement of the occasion and object of the 
charge. The gross amount was about fourteen thousand five hun- 
dred pounds sterling ; in which were included moneys expended for 
secret intelligence and service, and in various incidental charges. 
All this, it must be noted, was an account of money actually 
expended in the progress of the war ; not for arrearage of pay ; 
for it will be recollected Washington accepted no pay. Indeed, 
on the final adjustment of his accounts, he found himself a consid- 
erable loser, having frequently, in the hurry of business, neglected 
to credit himself with sums drawn from his private purse in 
moments of exigency .X The schedule of his public account fur- 
nishes not the least among the many noble and impressive lessons 
taught by his character and example. It stands a touchstone of 
honesty in office, and a lasting rebuke on that lavish expenditure 
of the public money, too often heedlessly, if not wilfully, indulged 
by military commanders. 



490 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

In passing through New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland, 
the scenes of his anxious and precarious campaigns, Washington 
was everywhere hailed with enthusiasm by the people, and greeted 
with addresses by legislative assemblies and learned and religious 
institutions. He accepted them all with that modesty inherent in 
his nature ; little thinking that this present popularity was but the 
early outbreaking of a fame that was to go on widening and deep- 
ening from generation to generation, and extending over the whole 
civilized world. 

Being arrived at Annapolis, he addressed a letter to the Presi- 
dent of Congress, on the 20th of December, requesting to know 
in what manner it would be most proper to offer his resigna- ' 
tion ; whether in writing or at an audience. The latter mode was 
adopted, and the Hall of Congress appointed for the ceremonial. 
A letter from Washington to the Baron Steuben, written on the 
23d, concludes as follows : " This is the last letter I shall write 
while I continue in the service of my country. The hour of my 
resignation is fixed at twelve to-day, after which I shall become a 
private citizen on the banks of the Potomac." 

At twelve o'clock the gallery, and a great part of the floor of the 
Hall of Congress, were filled with ladies, with public functionaries 
of the state, and with general officers. The members of Congress 
were seated and covered, as representatives of the sovereignty of 
the Union. The gentlemen present as spectators were standing 
and uncovered. Washington entered, conducted by the Secretary 
of Congress, and took his seat in a chair appointed for him. 
After a brief pause the president (General Mifflin) informed 
him, that " the United States, in Congress assembled, were pre- 
pared to receive his communication." Washington then rose, and 
in a dignified and impressive manner delivered a short address. 
/ "The great events," said he, "on which my resignation de- 
pended, having at length taken place, I now have the honor of 
offering my sincere congratulations to Congress, and of presenting 
myself before them, to surrender into their hands the trust com- 
mitted to me, and to claim the indulgence of retiring from the 
5>ervice of my country." ; 

h 



RETURN OF PEACE. 491 

After expressing his obligations to the army in general, and ac- 
knowledging the peculiar services and distinguished merits of the 
confidential officers who had been attached to his person, and 
composed his family during the war, and whom he especially rec- 
ommended to the favor of Congress, he continued : — 
(/ "I consider it an indispensable duty to close this last solemn 
act of my official life, by commending the interests of our dearest 
country to the protection of Almighty God ; and those who have 
the superintendence of them, to his holy keeping. Having now 
finished the work assigned me, I retire from the great theatre of 
action ; and, bidding an affectionate fiirewell to this august body 
under whose orders I have long acted, I here offer my com- 
mission, and take my leave of all the employments of public 
life." 

" Few tragedies ever drew so many tears from so many beauti- 
ful eyes," says a writer who was present, " as the moving manner 
in which his Excellency took his final leave of Congress." 

Having delivered his commission into the hands of the presi- 
dent, the latter, in reply to his address, bore testimony to the pa- 
triotism with which he had answered to the call of his country, and 
defended its invaded rights before it had formed alliances, and 
while it was without funds or a government to support him ; to the 
wisdom and fortitude with which he had conducted the great mili- 
tary contest, invariably regarding the rights of the civil power, 
through all disasters and changes. /'You retire," added he, "from 
the theatre of action with the blessings of your fellow-citizens ; but 
the glory of your virtues will not terminate with your military com- 
mand ; it will continue to animate remotest ages.". 

The very next morning Washington left Annapolis, and hastened 
to his beloved Mount Vernon, where he arrived the same day, on 
Christmas-eve, in a frame of mind suited to enjoy the sacred and 
genial festival. V'The scene is at last closed," said he in a letter 
to Governor Clinton ; " I feel myself eased of a load of public 
care. I hope to spend the remainder of my days in cultivating 
the affections of good men, and in the practice of the domestic 
virtues." y 



492 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

The Federal Constitution. — From his quiet retreat at Mount 
Vernon, Washington, though ostensibly withdrawn from public 
affairs, was watching with intense solicitude the working together of 
the several parts in the great political confederacy ; anxious to 
know whether the thirteen distinct states, under the present organ- 
ization, could form a sufficiently efficient general government. 
He was daily becoming more and more doubtful of the solidity of 
the fabric he had assisted to raise. The form of confederation 
which had bound the states together and met the public exigen- 
cies during the Revolution, when there was a pressure of external 
danger, was daily proving more and more incompetent to the pur- 
poses of a national government. Congress had devised a system 
of credit to provide for the national expenditure and the extinc- 
tion of national debts, which amounted to something more than 
forty millions of dollars. The system experienced neglect from 
some states and opposition from others ; each consulting its local 
interests and prejudices, instead of the interests and obligations of 
the whole. In like manner treaty stipulations, which bound the 
good faith of the whole, were slighted, if not violated, by individual 
states, apparently unconscious that they must each share in the 
discredit thus brought upon the national name. 

In a letter to James Warren, who had formerly been president 
of the Massachusetts Provincial Congress, Washington writes : 
" The confederation appears to me to be little more than a shadow 
without the substance, and Congress a nugatory body, their ordi- 
nances being little attended to. To me it is a solecism in poli- 
tics ; indeed, it is one of the most extraordinary things in nature, 
that we should confederate as a nation, and yet be afraid to give 
the rulers of that nation (who are creatures c^our own making, 
appointed for a limited and short duration, and who are amenable 
for every action and may be recalled at any moment, and are sub- 
ject to all the evils which they may be instrumental in producing) 
sufficient powers to order and direct the affairs of the same. By 
such policy as this the wheels of government are clogged, and our 
brightest prospects, and that high expectation which was enter- 
tained of us by the wondering world, are turned into astonishment ; 



RETURN OF PEACE. 493 

and from the high ground on which we stood, we are descending 
into the vale of confusion and darkness." 

Not long previous to the writing of this letter, Washington had 
been visited at Mount Vernon by commissioners, who had been 
appointed by the legislatures of Virginia and Maryland to form a 
compact relative to the navigation of the rivers Potomac and 
Pocomoke, and of part of the Chesapeake Bay, and who had met 
at Alexandria for the purpose. During their visit at Mount Ver- 
non, the policy of maintaining a naval force on the Chesapeake, 
and of establishing a tariff of duties on imports to which the laws 
of both states should conform, was discussed, and it was agreed 
that the commissioners should propose to the governments of 
their respective states the appointment of other commissioners, 
with powers to make conjoint arrangements for the above pur- 
poses ; to which the assent of Congress was to be solicited. 

The idea of conjoint arrangements between states, thus sug- 
gested in the quiet councils of Mount Vernon, was a step in the 
right direction, and led to important results. 

From a letter, written two or three months subsequently, we 
gather some of the ideas on national policy which were occupy- 
ing Washington's mind. " I have ever been a friend to adequate 
powers in Congress, without which it is evident to me, we never 
shall establish a national character, or be considered as on a re- 
spectable footing by the powers of Europe. — We are either a 
united people under one head and for federal purposes, or we are 
thirteen independent sovereignties, eternally counteracting each 
other. — If the former, whatever such a majority of the states as 
the constitution npints out, conceives to be for the benefit of the 
whole, should in^iy humble opinion, be submitted to by the mi- 
nority. — I can foresee no evil greater than disunion ; than those 
unreasonable jealousies (I say unreasonable, because I would have 
a proper- jealousy always awake, and the United States on the 
watch to prevent individual states from infracting the constitution 
with impunity) which are continually poisoning our minds and 
filling them with imaginary evils for the prevention of real ones." 

An earnest correspondence took place some months subse- 



494 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



quently between Washington and the illustrious patriot, John Jay,, 
at that time Secretary of Foreign Affairs, wherein the signs of the 
times were feelingly discussed. 

" Our affairs," writes Jay, " seem to lead to some crisis, some- 
thing that I cannot foresee or conjecture. I am uneasy and ap- 
prehensive, more so than during the war. Then we had a fixed 
object, and though the means and time of obtaining it were prob- 
lematical, yet I did firmly believe that we should ultimately suc- 
ceed, because I did firmly believe that justice was with us. The 
case is now altered. We are going and doing wrong, and there- 
fore I look forward to evils and calamities, but without being able 
to guess at the instrument, nature, or measure of them. . . . 
What I most fear is, that the better kind of people, by which I 
mean the people who are orderly and industrious, who are content 
with their situations, and not uneasy in their circumstances, will 
be led by the insecurity of property, the loss of public faith and 
rectitude, to consider the charms of liberty as imaginary and delu- 
sive. A state of uncertainty and fluctuation must disgust and 
alarm." Washington, in reply, coincided in opinion that public 
affairs were drawing rapidly to a crisis, and he acknowledged the 
event to be equally beyond his foresight. 

His anxiety on this subject was quickened by accounts of dis- 
contents and commotions in the Eastern States produced by the 
pressure of the times, the public and private indebtedness, and the 
imposition of heavy taxes, at a moment of financial embarrass- 
ment. General Knox, now Secretary of War, who had been sent 
by Congress to Massachusetts to inquire into these troubles, thus 
writes about the insurgents who had collected under the banner of 
Daniel Shays : " Their creed is, that the propMty of the United 
States has been protected from the confiscation of Britain by the 
joint exertions of all, and therefore ought to be the com?Jio?i prop- 
erty of all, and he that attempts opposition to this creed, is an 
enemy to equity and justice, and ought to be swept from off the 
face of the earth." Again, "They are determined to annihilate 
all debts, public and private, and have agrarian laws, which are 
easily effected by the means of unfunded paper, which shall be a 
tender in all cases whatever.'- 



1 



RETURN OF PEACE. 495 

In reply to Colonel Henry Lee in Congress, who had addressed 
several letters to him on the subject, Washington writes, " You 
talk, my good sir, of employing influence to appease the present 
tumults in Massachusetts. I know not where that influence is to 
be found, or, if attainable, that it would be a proper remedy for 
the disorders. Influence is not government. Let us have a gov- 
ernment by which our lives, liberties, and properties will be se- 
cured, or let us know the worst at once. There is a call for decis- 
ion. Know precisely what the insurgents aim at. If they have 
real grievances, redress them, if possible; or acknowledge the 
justice of them, and your inability to do it at the moment. If they 
have not, employ the force of government against them at once. 
If this is inadequate, all will be convinced that the superstruc- 
ture is bad and wants support. To delay one or other of these 
expedients is to exasperate on the one hand, or to give confidence 
on the other. . . . Let the reins of government, then, be braced 
and held with a steady hand, and every violation of the constitu- 
tion be reprehended. If defective, let it be amended ; but not 
suffered to be trampled upon whilst it has an existence." 

A letter to him from his former aide-de-camp. Colonel Hum- 
phreys, dated New Haven, November i, says : " The troubles in 
Massachusetts still continue. Government is prostrated in the 
dust, and it is much to be feared that there is not energy enough 
in that state to re-establish the civil powers. The leaders of the 
mob, whose fortunes and measures are desperate, are strengthen- 
ing themselves daily ; and it is expected that they will soon take 
possession of the continental magazine at Springfield, in which 
there are from ten to fifteen thousand stand of arms in excellent 
order. A general want of compliance with the requisitions of 
Congress for money seems to prognosticate that we are rapidly 
advancing to a crisis. Congress, I am told, is seriously alarmed, 
and hardly knows which way to turn or what to expect. Indeed, 
my dear General, nothing but a good Providence can extricate 
us from the present convulsion. In case of civil discord, I have 
already told you it was seriously my opinion that you could not 
remain neutral, and that you would be obliged, in self-defence. 



496 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

to take one part or the other, or withdraw from the continent. 
Your friends are of the same opinion." 

Thus Washington, even though in retirement, was almost uncon- 
sciously exercising a powerful influence on national affairs ; no 
longer the soldier, he was now becoming the statesman. The 
opinions and counsels given in his letters were widely effective. 
The leading expedient for federate organization, mooted in his 
conferences with the commissioners of Maryland and Virginia, dur- 
ing their visit to Mount Vernon in the previous year, had been 
extended and ripened in legislative assemblies, and ended in a 
plan of a convention composed of delegates from all the states, to 
meet in Philadelphia for the sole and express purpose of revising 
the federal system, and correcting its defects ; the proceedings of 
the convention to be subsequently reported to Congress, and the 
several legislatures, for approval and confirmation. 

Washington was unanimously put at the head of the Virginia 
delegation ; but for some time objected to accept the nomination. 
He feared to be charged with inconsistency in again appearing in 
a public situation, after his declared resolution to the contrary. 
" It will have also," said he, " a tendency to sweep me back into 
the tide of pubHc affairs, when retirement and ease are so much 
desired by me, and so essentially necessary." 

These considerations were strenuously combated, for the weight 
and influence of his name and counsel were felt to be all-impor- 
tant in giving dignity to the delegation. Two things contributed 
to bring him to a favorable decision : First, an insinuation that the 
opponents of the convention were monarchists, who wished the 
distractions of the country should continue, until a monarchical 
government might be resorted to as an ark of safety. The other 
was the insurrection in Massachusetts. 

Having made up his mind to serve as a delegate to the conven- 
tion, he went into a course of preparatory reading on the history 
and principles of ancient and modern confederacies. An abstract 
of the general principles of each, with notes of their vices or 
defects, exists in his own handwriting, among his papers ; though 
it is doubted by a judicious commentator whether it was origi- 



RETURN OF PEACE. 497 

nally drawn up by him, as several works are cited wliich are written 
in languages that he did not understand. 

Before the time arrived for the meeting of the convention, which 
was the second Monday in May, his mind was relieved from one 
source of poignant solicitude, by learning that the insurrection in 
Massachusetts had been suppressed with but litde bloodshed. 

On the 9th of May, Washington set out in his carriage from 
Mount Vernon to attend the convention. It was not until the 
25 th of May that a sufficient number of delegates were assembled 
to form a quorum ; when they proceeded to organize the body, 
and by a unanimous vote called Washington to the chair as 
president. 

We forbear to go into the voluminous proceedings of this mem- 
orable convention, which occupied from four to seven hours each 
day for four months ; and in which every point was the subject 
of able and scrupulous discussion by the best talent and noblest spirits 
of the country. Washington felt restrained by his situation as presi- 
dent, from taking a part in the debates, but his well-known opinions 
influenced the whole. The result was the formation of the con- 
stitution of the United States, which (with some amendments 
made in after years) still exists. 

"The business being closed," says Washington in his diary 
(Sept. 17th), "the members adjourned to the city tavern, dined 
together, and took a cordial leave of each other. After which I 
returned to my lodgings, did some business with, and received the 
papers from, the secretary of the convention, and retired to medi- 
tate on the momentous work which had been executed." 

" It appears to me little short of miracle," writes he to Lafey- 
ette, "that the delegates from so many states, different from 
each other, as you know, in their manners, circumstances, and 
prejudices, should unite in forming a system of national govern- 
ment so Uttle hable to well-founded objections. Nor am I such 
an enthusiastic, partial, or undiscriminating admirer of it, as not 
to perceive it is tinctured with some real, though not radical de- 
fects. With regard to the two great points, the pivots upon which 
the whole machine must move, ray creed is simply, First, that the 



498 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

general government is not invested with more powers than are 
indispensably necessary to perform the functions of a good gov- 
ernment ; and consequently, that no objection ought to be made 
against the quantity of power delegated to it. 

" Secondly, that these powers, as the appointment of all rulers 
will forever arise from, and at short, stated intervals recur to, the 
free suffrages of the people, are so distributed among the legis- 
lative, executive, and judicial branches into which the general gov- 
ernment is arranged, that it can never be in danger of degener- 
ating into a monarchy, an oligarchy, an aristocracy, or any other 
despotic or oppressive form, so long as there shall remain any 
virtue in the body of the people. 

" It will at least be a recommendation to the proposed constitu- 
tion, that it is provided with more checks and barriers against 
the introduction of tyranny, and those of a nature less liable to 
be surmounted, than any government hitherto instituted among 
mortals." 

'' We are not to expect perfection in this world ; but mankind, 
in modern times, have apparently made some progress in the 
science of government. Should that which is now offered to the 
people of America, be found on experiment less perfect than it can 
be made, a constitutional door is left open for its amelioration." 

The constitution thus formed, was forwarded to Congress, and 
thence transmitted to the state legislatures, each of which sub- 
mitted it to a state convention composed of delegates chosen for 
that express purpose by the people. The ratification of the in- 
strument by nine states was necessary to carry it into effect ; and 
as the several state conventions would assemble at different times, 
nearly a year must elapse before the decisions of the requisite 
number could be obtained. 

During this time, Washington resumed his retired hfe at Mount 
Vernon, seldom riding, as he says, beyond the Hmits of his own 
farms, but kept informed by his numerous correspondents, such as 
James Madison, John Jay, and generals Knox, Lincoln, and Arm- 
strong, of the progress of the constitution through its various 
ordeals, and of the strenuous opposition which it met with in dif- 



RETURN OF PEACE. 499 

ferent quarters, both in debate and through the press. A diver- 
sity of opinions and incKnations on the subject had been expected 
by him. " The various passions and motives by which men are 
influenced," said he, "are concomitants of faUibility, and in- 
grafted into our nature." Still he never had a doubt that it would 
ultimately be adopted ; and, in fact, the national decision in its 
favor was more fully and strongly pronounced than even he had 
anticipated. 

The testimonials of ratification having been received by Con- 
gress from a sufficient number of states, an act was passed by that 
body on the 13th of September, appointing the first Wednesday 
in January, 1 789, for the people of the United States to choose 
electors of a President according to the constitution, and the firsi 
Wednesday in the month of February following for the electors to 
meet and make a choice. The meeting of the government was 
to be on the first Wednesday in March, and in the city of New 
York. 

Washington chosen President of the United States. — The 
adoption of the Federal Constitution was another epoch in the life 
of Washington. Before the official forms of an election could be 
carried into operation, a unanimous sentiment throughout the 
Union pronounced him the nation's choice to fill the presidential 
chair. He looked forward to the possibility of his election with 
characteristic modesty and unfeigned reluctance ; as his letters to 
his confidential friends bear witness. " It has no fascinating al- 
lurements for me," writes he to Lafayette. "At my time of life 
and under my circumstances, the increasing infirmities of nature 
and the growing love of retirement do not permit me to entertain 
a wish beyond that of living and dying an honest man on my own 
farm. Let those follow the pursuits of ambition and fame who 
have a keener relish for them, or who may have more years in 
store for the enjoyment." 

The election took place at the appointed time, and it was soon 
ascertained that Washington was chosen President for the term of 
four years from the 4th of March. By this time the arguments 
and entreaties of his friends, and his own convictions of public 



SOO LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

expediency, had determined him to accept ; and he made prepa- 
rations to depart for the seat of government as soon as he should 
receive official notice of his election. Among other duties, he 
paid a visit to his mother at Fredericksburg; it was a painful, 
because hkely to be a final, one ; for she was afflicted with a malady 
which, it was evident, must soon terminate her life. Their parting 
was affectionate, but solemn ; she had always been reserved and 
moderate in expressing herself in regard to the successes of her 
son ; but it must have been a serene satisfaction at the close of 
her life to see him elevated by his virtues to the highest honor of 
his country. 

From a delay in forming a quorum of Congress, the votes of the 
electoral college were not counted until early in April, when they 
were found to be unanimous in favor of Washington. "The de- 
lay," said he, in a letter to General Knox, ''may be compared to 
a reprieve ; for in confidence I tell you (with the world it would 
obtain little credit) , that my movements to the chair of govern- 
ment will be accompanied by feelings not unhke those of a culprit 
who is going to the place of his execution ; so unwilHng am I, in 
the evening of a life nearly consumed in public cares, to quit a 
peaceful abode for an ocean of difficulties, without that compe- 
tency of political skill, abilities, and inclination, which are neces- 
sary to manage the helm. I am sensible that I am embarking the 
voice of the people, and a good name of my own, on this voyage ; 
but what returns will be made for them, Heaven alone can foretell. 
Integrity and firmness are all I can promise. These, be the 
voyage long or short, shall never forsake me, although I may be 
deserted by all men ; for of the consolations which are to be 
derived from these, under any circumstances, the world cannot 
deprive me." 

At length, on the 14th of April, he received a letter from the 
President of Congress, duly notifying him of his election ; and he 
prepared to set out immediately for New York, the seat of govern- 
ment. An entry in his diary, dated the i6th, says, "About ten 
o'clock I bade adieu to Mount Vernon, to private life, and to 
domestic felicity ; and with a mind oppressed with more anxious 



RETURN OF PEACE. 501 

and painful sensations than I have words to express, set out for 
New York with the best disposition to render service to my coun- 
try in obedience to its call, but with less hope of answering its 
expectations." 

His progress to the seat of government was a continual ovation. 
Old and young, women and children, thronged the highways to 
bless and welcome him. Deputations of the most respectable 
inhabitants from the principal places came forth to meet and 
escort him. At Baltimore, on his arrival and departure, his car- 
riage was attended by a numerous cavalcade of citizens, and he 
was saluted by the thunder of artillery. 

At the frontier of Pennsylvania he was met by his former com- 
panion in arms, Mifflin, now governor of the state, who, with Judge 
Peters and a civil and military escort, was waiting to receive him. 
Washington had hoped to be spared all military parade, but found 
it was not to be evaded. At Chester, where he stopped to break- 
fast, there were preparations for a public entrance into Philadelphia. 
Cavalry had assembled from the surrounding country ; a superb 
white horse was led out* for Washington to mount, and a grand 
procession set forward, with General St. Clair of Revolutionary 
notoriety at its head. It gathered numbers as it advanced, passed 
under triumphal arches entwined with laurel, and entered Phila- 
delphia amid the shouts of the multitude. 

We question whether any of these testimonials of a nation's 
gratitude affected Washington more sensibly than those he received 
at Trenton. It was on a sunny afternoon when he arrived on the 
banks of the Delaware, where, twelve years before he had crossed 
in darkness and storm, through clouds of snow and drifts of float- 
ing ice, on his daring attempt to strike a blow at a triumphant 
enemy. 

Here at present all was peace and sunshine, the broad river 
flowed placidly along, and crowds awaited him on the opposite 
bank, to hail him with love and transport. 

We will not dwell on the joyous ceremonials with which he was 
welcomed, but there was one too peculiar to be omitted. The 
reader may remember Washington's gloomy night on the banks of 



502 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

the Assunpink, which flows through Trenton ; the camp fires of 
Cornwalhs in front of him ; the Delaware full of floating ice in the 
rear ; and his sudden resolve on that midnight retreat which turned 
the fortunes of the campaign. On the bridge crossing that event- 
ful stream, the ladies of Trenton had caused a triumphal arch to 
be erected. It was entwined with evergreens and laurels, and bore 
the inscription, " The defender of the mothers will be the protector 
of the daughters." At this bridge the matrons of the city were 
assembled to pay him reverence ; and as he passed under the arch, 
a number of young girls, dressed in white and crowned with gar- 
lands, strewed flowers before him, singing an ode expressive of 
their love and gratitude. Never was ovation more graceful, touch- 
ing, and sincere ; and Washington, tenderly affected, declared that 
the impression of it on his heart could never be effaced. 

His whole progress through New Jersey must have afforded a 
similar contrast to his weary marchings to and fro, harassed by 
doubts and perplexities, with bale fires blazing on its hills, instead 
of festive illuminations, and when the ringing of bells and booming 
of cannon, now so joyous, were the signals of invasion and maraud. 

In respect to his reception at New York, Washington had signi- 
fied in a letter to Governor Clinton, that none could be so congen- 
ial to his feelings as a quiet entry devoid of ceremony ; but his 
modest wishes were not complied with. At Elizabethtown Point, 
a committee of both Houses of Congress, with various civic func- 
tionaries, waited by appointment to receive him. He embarked 
on board of a splendid barge, constructed for the occasion. It was 
manned by thirteen branch pilots, masters of vessels, in white uni- 
forms, and commanded by Commodore Nicholson. Other barges, 
fancifully decorated, followed, having on board the heads of depart- 
ments and other public officers, and several distinguished citizens. 

As they passed through the strait between the Jerseys and Staten 
Island, called the Kills, other boats decorated with flags fell in 
their wake, until the whole, forming a nautical procession, swept 
up the broad and beautiful bay of New York, to the sound of 
instrumental music. On board of two vessels were parties of ladies 
and gendemen who sang congratulatory odes as Washington's barge 



RETURN OF PEACE. 503 

approached. The ships at anchor in the harbor, dressed in colors, 
fired sakites as it passed. One alone, the Galveston, a Spanish 
man-of-war, displayed no signs of gratulation until the barge of 
the general was nearly abreast ; when suddenly, as if by magic, the 
yards were manned, the ship burst forth, as it were, into a full array 
of flags and signals, and thundered a salute of thirteen guns. 

He approached the landing-place of Murray's Wharf amid the 
ringing of bells, the roaring of cannon, and the shouting of mul- 
titudes collected on every pier-head. On landing, he was received 
by Governor Clinton. General Knox, too, who had taken such 
affectionate leave of him on his retirement from military life, was 
there to welcome him in his civil capacity. Other of his fellow- 
soldiers of the Revolution were likewise there, mingled with the 
civic dignitaries. At this juncture, an officer stepped up and re- 
quested Washington's orders, announcing himself as commanding 
his guard. Washington desired him to proceed according to the 
directions he might have received in the present arrangements, 
but that for the future the affection of his fellow-citizens was all the 
guard he wanted. 

Carpets had been spread to a carriage prepared to convey him 
to his destined residence, but he preferred to walk. He was at- 
tended by a long civil and military train. In the streets through 
which he passed, the houses were decorated with flags, silken ban- 
ners, garlands of flowers and evergreens, and bore his name in 
every form of ornament. The streets were crowded with people, 
so that it was with difficulty a passage could be made by the city 
officers. Washington frequently bowed to the multitude as he 
passed, taking off his hat to the ladies, who thronged every win- 
dow, waving their handkerchiefs, throwing flowers before him, and 
many of them shedding tears of enthusiasm. 

That day he dined with his old friend Governor Clinton, who 
had invited a numerous company of public functionaries and for- 
eign diplomatists to meet him, and in the evening the city was 
brilhandy illuminated. 

Would the reader know the effect upon Washington's mind of 
this triumphant entry into New York? It was to depress rather 



504 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

than to excite him. Modestly diffident of his abihties to cope with 
the new duties on which he was entering, he was overwhelmed 
by what he regarded as proofs of public expectation. 

The inauguration was delayed for several days, in which a ques- 
tion arose as to the 'form or title by which the President-elect was 
to be addressed ; and a committee in both Houses was appointed 
to report upon the subject. The question was stated without 
Washington's privity, and contrary to his desire, as he feared that 
any title might awaken the sensitive jealousy of republicans, at a 
moment when it was all-important to conciliate pubhc good-will 
to the new form of government. It was a relief to him, therefore, 
when it was finally resolved that the address should be simply 
" the President of the United States," without any addition of 
title j a judicious form, which has remained to the present day. 

The inauguration took place on the 30th of April. At nine 
o'clock in the morning there were religious services in all the 
churches, and prayers put up for the blessing of Heaven on the 
new government. At twelve o'clock the city troops paraded be- 
fore Washington's door ; and soon after, the committees of Con- 
gress and heads of departments came in their carriages. At half- 
past twelve the procession moved forward, preceded by the troops \ 
next came the committees and heads of departments in their car- 
riages; then Washington in a coach-of-state, his aide-de-camp, 
Colonel Humphreys, and his secretary, Mr. Lear, in his own car- 
riage. The foreign ministers and a long train of citizens brought 
up the rear. 

About two hundred yards before reaching the hall, Washington 
and his suite ahghted from their carriages, and passed through the 
troops, who were drawn up on each side, into the hall and senate 
chamber, where the Vice-President, the Senate, and House of 
Representatives were assembled. The Vice-President, John 
Adams, recently inaugurated, advanced and conducted Washing- 
ton to a chair-of-state at the upper end of the room. A solemn 
silence prevailed, v/hen the Vice-President rose, and informed 
him that all things were prepared for him to take the oath of 
office required by the Constitution. 



RETURN OF PEACE. 505 

The oath was to be administered by the Chancellor of the State 
of New York, in a balcony in front of the senate chamber, and in 
full view of an immense multitude occupying the street, the win- 
dows, and even roofs of the adjacent houses. The balcony formed 
a kind of open recess, with lofty columns supporting the roof. In 
the centre was a table with a covering of crimson velvet, upon 
which lay a superbly bound Bible on a crimson velvet cushion. 
This was all the paraphernalia for the august scene. 

All eyes were fixed upon the balcony, when, at the appointed 
hour, Washington made his appearance, accompanied by various 
pubhc functionaries, and members of the Senate and House of 
Representatives. He was clad in a full suit of dark-brown cloth, 
of American manufacture, with a steel-hilted dress sword, white 
silk stockings, and silver shoe-buckles. His hair was dressed and 
powdered in the fashion of the day, and worn in a bag and soli- 
taire. 

His entrance on the balcony was hailed by universal shouts. 
He was evidently moved by this demonstration of public affection. 
Advancing to the front of the balcony, he laid his hand upon his 
heart, bowed several times, and then retreated to an arm-chair 
near the table. The populace appeared to understand that the 
scene had overcome him, and were hushed at once into profound 
silence. 

After a few moments Washington rose and again came fonvard. 
John Adams, the Vice-President, stood on his right ; on his left 
the Chancellor of the State, Robert Livingston; somewhat in 
the rear were Roger Sherman, Alexander Hamilton, generals 
Knox, St. Clair, the Baron Steuben and others. 

The chancellor advanced to administer the oath prescribed by 
the Constitution, and Mr. Otis, the Secretary of the Senate, held 
up the Bible on its crimson cushion. The oath was read slowly 
and distinctly, Washington at the same time laying his hand on 
the open Bible. When it was concluded, he replied solemnly, " I 
swear — so help me God!" Mr. Otis would have raised the 
Bible to his lips, but he bowed down reverently and kissed it. 

The chancellor now stepped forward, waved his hand and ex- 



506 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 

claimed, " Long live George Washington, President of the United 
States ! " At this moment a flag was displayed on the cupola of 
the hall, on which signal there was a general discharge of artillery 
on the Battery. All the bells of the city rang out a joyful peal, 
and the multitude rent the air with acclamations. 

Washington again bowed to the people and returned into the 
senate chamber where he delivered, to both houses of Congress, 
his inaugural address, characterized by his usual modesty, moder- 
ation, and good sense, but uttered with a voice deep, slightly trem- 
ulous, and so low as to demand close attention in the listeners. 
After this he proceeded with the whole assemblage on foot to St. 
Paul's church, where prayers suited to the occasion were read by 
Dr. Prevost, Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in New 
York, who had been appointed by the Senate one of the chap- 
lains of Congress. So closed the ceremonies of the inauguration. 

The whole day was one of sincere rejoicing, and in the evening 
there were brilliant illuminations and fireworks. 

We have been accustomed to look to Washington's private let- 
ters for the sentiments of his heart. Those written to several of 
his friends immediately after his inauguration show how little he 
was excited by his official elevation. " I greatly fear," writes he, 
" that my countrymen will expect too much from me. I fear, if 
the issue of public measures should not correspond with their 
sanguine expectations, they will turn the extravagant, and I might 
almost say undue, praises which they are heaping upon me at this 
moment, into equally extravagant, though I will fondly hope un- 
merited, censures." 

Little was his modest spirit aware that the praises so dubiously 
received were but the opening notes of a theme that was to in- 
crease from age to age, to pervade all lands and endure through- 
out all generations. 



CONTINUATION. 

HOW THE UNITED STATES BECAME A NATION. 

§ I. The Period of Weakness, 

Conditions of American Progress. — The nation over which 
George Washington was called to preside in 1 789 was a third-rate 
power, inferior in population and wealth to Holland, for example, 
and about on a level with Portugal or Denmark. The population, 
numbering less than four million, was thinly scattered through the 
thirteen states between the Atlantic and the Alleghanies, beyond 
which mountainous barrier a few hardy pioneers were making the 
beginnings of Tennessee, Kentucky, and Ohio. Roads were few 
and bad, none of the great rivers were bridged, mails were irregu- 
lar. There were few manufactures. There were many traders 
and merchant seamen in the coast towns of the north, but the 
great majority of the people were farmers who lived on the prod- 
uce of their own estates and seldom undertook long journeys. 
Hence the different parts of the country knew very little about 
each other, and entertained absurd prejudices ; and the sentiment 
of union between the states was extremely weak. East of the 
Alleghanies the red man had ceased to be dangerous, but tales of 
Indian massacre still came from regions no more remote than 
Ohio and Georgia. By rare good fortune and consummate diplo- 
macy the United States had secured, at the peace of 1783, all the 
territory as far as the Mississippi river, but all the vast regions 
beyond, together with the important city of New Orleans at its 
mouth, belonged to Spain, the European power which most cor- 
dially hated us. The only other power which had possessions 
ia North America was England, from which we had lately won our 



508 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

independence. The feeling entertained toward us in England 
was one of mortification and chagrin, accompanied by a hope that 
our half-formed union would fall in pieces, and its separate states 
be driven by disaster to beg to be taken back into the British 
empire. The rest of Europe knew little about the United States 
and cared less. 

This country, however, which seemed so insignificant beside the 
great powers of Europe, contained within itself the germs of an 
industrial and political development far greater than anything the 
world had ever seen. The American population was settled upon 
a territory much more than capable of supporting it. The natural 
resources of the country were so vast as to create a steady demand 
for labor far greater than ordinary increase of population could sup- 
ply. This is still the case, and for a long time will continue to be 
the case. It is this simple economic fact which has always been 
at the bottom of the wonderful growth of the United States. But 
it was very necessary that the nation should be provided with such 
a government as would enable it to take full advantage of this fact. 
It was necessary yfr J-/, that the Federal government should be strong 
enough to preserve peace at home and make itself respected abroad ; 
secondly, that local self-government should be maintained in every 
part of the Union ; thirdly, that there should be absolute free trade 
between the states. These three great ends our Federal Constitu- 
tion has secured. The requisite strength in the central government 
was, indeed, not all acquired in a moment. It took a second war with 
England in 1812-15, to convince foreign nations that the Ameri- 
can flag could not be insulted with impunity ; and it took the 
terrible civil war of 1861-65, t*^ prove that our government was 
too strong to be overthrown by the most formidable domestic 
combination that could possibly be brought against it. The result 
of both these wars has been to diminish the probable need for 
further wars on the part of the United States. In spite of these 
and other minor contests, our Federal Constitution has for a cen- 
tury kept the American Union in such profound peace as was 
never seen before in any part of the earth since men began to live 
upon its surface. Local self-government and free trade within 



BECAME A NATION. 509 

the limits of the Union have not been interfered with. As a result, 
we have been able largely to profit by our natural advantages, so 
that the end of our first century of national existence finds us the 
strongest and richest nation in the world. 

Hamilton's Measures. — For these blessings, in so far as they 
are partly the work of wise statesmanship, a large share of our 
gratitude is due to the administration of George Washington. The 
problem before that administration was to organize the govern- 
ment upon the lines laid down in the Constitution, so that its dif- 
ferent departments would work smoothly together. This difficult 
work was so successfully accomplished that little change has been 
found necessary from that day to this. The success was mainly 
due to the organizing genius of Hamilton in the cabinet, assisted 
by the skill and tact of Madison as leading member of the House 
of Representatives. Though these great men were often opposed 
to each other in regard to special measures, their work all tended 
toward a common result. Hamilton, as Secretary of the Treasury, 
occupied the most important position in Washington's cabinet. 
The first thing to be done was to restore the credit of the United 
States, which had been completely ruined during the Revolution- 
ary War and the troubled years which followed it. Hamilton 
proposed three measures : first, that the government should 
assume the foreign debt of the Confederation, and pay it in full ; 
secondly, that the domestic debt, which seemed to have been virtu- 
ally repudiated, should likewise be assumed and paid ; thirdly, 
that the debts of the separate states should also be assumed and 
paid by the Federal government. The first of these measures met 
with no opposition. The second was opposed on the ground that 
it would only benefit speculators who had bought up United States 
securities at a discount ; but Hamilton's friends argued, let us 
teach people who hold government securities hereafter not to sell 
them at a discount ; and so the measure was carried. The third 
measure met with violent opposition, for many people thought the 
Federal government had no legal power to assume a state debt. 
No doubt it was a somewhat heroic measure. There was a fierce 
and bitter fight over it, which at last was only settled by what in 



510 HO IV THE UNITED STATES 

political slang is called "log-rolling," or an exchange of favors. 
The site for a Federal capital was to be selected. The northern 
people generally wished to have it not further south than the Del- 
aware river, while the southerners were determined not to have it 
further north than the Potomac. Jefferson, who was Washington's 
Secretary of State, was prominent in urging the southern view of 
this question, as well as in opposing the assumption of the state 
debts. The two controversies were settled by a bargain between 
Jefferson and Hamilton, in which the former withdrew his opposi- 
tion to assumption, while the latter used his influence with the 
Federalist party in favor of the Potomac as a site for the Federal 
capital. The assumption of state debts was a master-stroke of 
policy. All those persons to whom any state owed money were 
at once won over to the support of the Federal government. 
There were many such persons, and many of them were wealthy 
and powerful. All these now felt a common interest in upholding 
the national credit, which, through these wise and vigorous meas- 
ures of Hamilton, was soon completely restored. 

Whiskey Insurrection. — In order to carry out these measures, 
money was necessary, and this must be raised by Federal taxation. 
There were two ways in which this could be done, either by in- 
ternal taxes or by custom-house duties. The latter method was 
mainly resorted to, because it is more indirect, and while it takes 
vastly more money out of people's pockets, they are usually too 
dull to realize this as they would in the case of a direct tax. 
When a tax is wrapped up in the extra fifty cents paid to a mer- 
chant for a yard of foreign cloth, it is so effectually hidden that 
most people do not know it is there. Hence this method of tax- 
ation is dangerous ; it enables taxes to be laid for the benefit of 
greedy manufacturers, and thus furtively takes from the people 
vast sums of money which never get into the treasury. This sort 
of thing is called "protection," which is so pleasing a word that it 
makes many people loth to see taxes reduced. In Hamilton's 
time these dangers were not so well understood as they are now. 
But the most indirect and covert method of taxation was the one 
that must needs be adopted, because people had pot been used to 



BECAME A NATION. 511 

pay taxes except to their town, county, and state governments, and 
would be likely to rebel against taxes too directly demanded for 
the Federal treasury. 

An instance of this was furnished in 1 794 by the tax on whiskey. 
The settlers in the mountains of Pennsylvania and Virginia had 
long since found that it cost more to carry their corn and wheat to 
market than they could sell it for, and accordingly they distilled it 
into whiskey. When Congress now laid a tax upon whiskey, they 
grumbled, and when the revenue officers called upon them, they re- 
fused to pay the tax, and threatened to take up arms. It was nec- 
essary to show people that such proceedings would not be allowed ; 
and Washington summarily suppressed the insurrection by sending 
to the disaffected region an army of sixteen thousand men, — a 
force so large as to make the mere idea of resistance ridiculous. 

Indian War. — Then, as ordinarily, the western frontier was 
the scene of troubles with the Indians. This frontier was then 
near the Wabash river. In 1790 the red men won a great victory 
over General Harmar near the site of Fort Wayne, and in the fol- 
lowing year they inflicted a terrible defeat upon General St. Clair 
near the head-waters of the Wabash. They now tried to make a 
treaty which should exclude white settlers from this region. But 
in 1 794, in a fierce battle near the site of Toledo, they were totally 
defeated by General Wayne, and were forced to make a treaty by 
which they were moved further west. 

Rise of Parties. — The divisions between political parties had 
now become strongly marked. People were first divided into two 
great national parties in the autumn of 1787, when the question 
was whether the Federal Constitution should be ratified by the 
states. These first parties were called Federalist and Anti-Feder- 
alist, names which explain themselves. The adoption of the Con- 
stitution was a decisive defeat for the Anti-Federalist party ; the 
financial measures of Hamilton completed its destruction. Parties 
then became divided in the only sound and healthy way possible 
in a free country, namely, into those who wished to extend, and 
those who wished to limit, the powers of government. The former 
kept the name of Federalists, the second received the name of 



512 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

Democratic-Republicans. They preferred to be called Republi- 
cans, while their enemies tried to call them Democrats, an epithet 
which was then supposed to convey a stigma. Until about 1825- 
30 the correct name for this party is Republican ; after that time 
it is right to speak of it as the Democratic party. The reader must 
bear in mind the awkward fact that in American politics at the 
beginning of the century the name Republican meant exactly the 
opposite to what it means now. So far as the word goes, it might 
as well have been applied to one party as the other. American 
party names have but little descriptive significance anyway. But 
at the outset the name Democrat really had a meaning. It was 
properly applied to those who wished to increase the direct partic* 
ipation of the people in the government, to abolish all remnants of 
privilege, and to extend the suffrage which at that time was more 
or less limited in all the states. The founder and greatest leader 
of the Republican party, Thomas Jefferson, was before all men a 
Democrat. In the highest intellectual qualities he was inferior to 
Hamilton and Madison ; but he excelled them in a certain gener- 
osity of intelligence which enabled him to see that no form of gov- 
ernment can be successful in the long run, if it leaves any class of 
people with the feeling that they are forcibly deprived of a share 
in the management of things. Jefferson's opponent, the leader of 
the Federalists, was Hamilton. Between the two parties Washing- 
ton pursued a national policy of his own, though his sympathies 
were mainly with the Federalists. 

Citizen Genet. — A firm hand and indomitable will like Wash- 
ington's were needed at this time, for the foreign sympathies of 
our two parties were so strong that we were continually running 
the risk of getting dragged into war. Party quarrels were con- 
cerned even more with European politics than with American 
affairs. The French Revolution broke out in the first year of 
Washington's first term (1789) ; by the second year of his second 
term, it had reached its most frightful period. France and Eng- 
land were now at war. The Republicans realized the good in the 
French Revolution so far as to sympathize with it in spite of its 
horrors. The Federalists sympathized with England as the u]> 



BECAME A NATION. 513 

holder of law and order in Europe. Party strife has never run so 
high, except just before our Civil War. The French expected us 
to help them in their war against England, and in 1793 they sent 
over a minister to the United States, to persuade us to do so. 
This man, who was called ^' Citizen " Genet, behaved as if he 
owned the United States. He tried, without waiting for permis- 
sion, to fit out privateers in American ports, and thus drag us into 
war with England. Many Republicans were disposed to uphold 
him in everything, but his insolence presently disgusted his own 
supporters. Washington sternly checked his proceedings, and 
at length complained of him to the French government, which 
thought it best to recall him. 

Jay's Treaty. — In 1795, Washington had one of his hardest 
trials. Since the peace of 1783, England had treated us as shab- 
bily as she knew how. She still held Detroit and other frontier 
forts, in disregard of the treaty, and it was believed that the British 
commandants had secretly helped the Indians on the Wabash. 
British war-ships, moreover, were in the habit of impressing Ameri- 
can seamen, and seizing American ships bound to or from French 
ports. War might easily grow out of this, and to prevent such a 
calamity, Washington sent John Jay on a special mission to Eng- 
land. Jay negotiated a treaty which only partially secured the 
American claims, but Washington's government wisely adopted it 
as preferable to war. There was great excitement everywhere ; 
Hamilton was stoned on the street, and scurrilous newspapers 
heaped abuse upon Washington, calling him " the step- father of 
his country." 

Troubles with France. — As Washington refused to be a can- 
didate for a third term, the election of 1796 was warmly contested 
by the two parties. John Adams, the Federalist candidate, was 
elected over Jefferson, who, according to the rule at that time, 
became Vice-President, as second on the hst. This was an unwise 
rule, since under it the death of the President might reverse the 
result of the election. The administration of John Adams was 
chiefly occupied with disputes with France. The French were 
indignant at our attitude of neutrality, and treated us with intoler- 



514 IIOM^ THE UNITED STATES 

able insolence. Under Washington's administration, Gouverneur 
Morris, a Federalist, had been for some time minister to France, 
but as he was greatly disliked by the gang of anarchists that then 
misruled that country, Washington had recalled him and sent 
James Monroe, a Republican, in his place. Monroe was instructed 
to try to reconcile the French to Jay's treaty, but instead of this 
he encouraged them to hope that the treaty would not be ratified. 
Washington accordingly recalled him and sent Cotesworth Pinck- 
ney, a Federalist, in his place. The French government were so 
enraged at the ratification of Jay's treaty that they would not allow 
Pinckney to stay in Paris, and at the same time decrees were 
passed discriminating against American commerce. The first act 
of Mr. Adams was to call an extra session of Congress, to consider 
how war with France was to be avoided. A special commission 
was sent to Paris, but the government there would not receive the 
commissioners. Prince Talleyrand had the impudence to send 
secret emissaries to them, to demand a large sum of money as 
blackmail, to be paid to several members of the French govern- 
ment, on condition of their stopping the outrages upon American 
commerce. The indignant envoys sent home to America an 
account of this infamous proposal, and Mr. Adams laid the dis- 
patches before Congress, substituting the letters X. Y. Z. for the 
names of Talleyrand's emissaries. Hence, these papers have ever 
since been known as the '' X. Y. Z. dispatches." They were pub- 
lished, and aroused intense excitement on both sides of the Atlan- 
tic. The United States prepared for war. For the moment, the 
Republican party seemed overwhelmed. From all quarters went 
up the war-cry, " Millions for defence ; not one cent for tribute." 
A few excellent frigates were built ; an army was raised, and 
Washington was placed in command, with the rank of lieutenant- 
general. It was during this excitement that the song of " Hail, 
Columbia " was published. For about a year there was really 
war with France, though it was never declared. In February, 
1799, Captain Truxton, in the frigate Constellation, defeated 
and captured the French frigate LInsurgeufe near the island of 
St. Christopher. In February, iSoo, the same gallant officer in a 



BECAME A NATION, 515 

desperate battle destroyed the frigate La Vengeance, which was 
much his superior in strength of armament. The French, seeing 
our warHke attitude, had already, early in 1799, grown somewhat 
more civil. Talleyrand tried to disavow the X. Y. Z. affair, and 
made conciliatory overtures to Vans Murray, the American minis- 
ter at the Hague. President Adams wisely decided to meet the 
French government half-way, and accordingly, in spite of the 
fiercely warlike temper of the Federalist party, he appointed Vans 
Murray minister to France, and sent over two commissioners to 
aid him in adjusting the difficulties. When these envoys reached 
Paris, they found Napoleon Bonaparte at the head of the govern- 
ment, and succeeded in settling everything amicably. The course 
of John Adams, in resisting popular clamor and making peace 
with France, deserves our highest praise. It was one of the 
noblest actions of his life, but it prevented his re-election to the 
presidency. For a long time there had been intense jealousy and 
dislike between Adams and the other great Federalist leader, 
Hamilton ; and on the occasion of the French mission, these 
antagonisms bore fruits in a quarrel between Mr. Adams and his 
cabinet, and presently in a split in the Federalist party. 

Alien and Sedition Laws. — Another affair contributed largely 
to the downfall of the FederaHst party. In 1798, during the 
height of the popular fury against France, the Federalists in Con- 
gress presumed too much upon their strength, and passed the 
famous alien and sedition acts. By the first of these acts, aliens 
were rendered liable to summary banishment from the United 
States at the sole discretion of the President ; and any alien who 
should venture to return from such banishment was liable to 
imprisonment for life. By the sedition act, any scandalous or 
malicious writing against the President or Congress was liable to 
be dealt with in the United States courts, and punished by fine and 
imprisonment. This act was unconstitutional, for it was an 
infringement upon freedom of the press ; and both acts aroused 
more widespread indignation than any others that have ever 
passed in Congress. 

Kentucky and Virginia Eesolutions. — From the southern 



516 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

Republicans the alien and sedition laws called forth a vigorous 
remonstrance. A series of resolutions, drawn up by Madison, was 
adopted in 1798 by the Legislature of Virginia, and a similar series, 
still more pronounced in character, and drawn up by Jefferson, 
was adopted in the same year by the Legislature of Kentucky. 
The Virginia resolutions asserted with truth that, in adopting the 
Federal constitution, the states had surrendered only a limited 
portion of their powers ; and went on to declare that, whenever 
the Federal government should exceed its constitutional author- 
ity, it was the business of the state governments to interfere and 
pronounce such action unconstitutional. Accordingly, by these 
resolutions, Virginia declared the alien and sedition laws uncon- 
stitutional, and invited the other states to join in the declara- 
tion. Not meeting with a favorable response, Virginia renewed 
these resolutions the next year. 

There was nothing necessarily seditious, or tending toward 
secession, in the Virginia resolutions ; but tlie attitude assumed in 
them was uncalled for on the part of any state, inasmuch as there 
existed, in the Federal supreme court, a tribunal competent to 
decide upon the constitutionality of acts of Congress. But the 
Kentucky resolutions went further. They declared that our 
Federal constitution was a compact, to which the several states 
were the one party and the Federal government was the other, 
and each party must decide for itself as to when the compact was 
infringed, and as to the proper remedy to be adopted. When the 
resolutions were repeated in 1799, a clause was added which went 
still further and mentioned "nullification" as the suitable remedy, 
and one which any state might employ. This was venturing upon 
dangerous ground ; for if it were once admitted that a state might 
take it upon itself to prevent the execution of a United States law 
within its own borders, a long step would be made toward admit- 
ting the right of secession. In after times secessionists often 
appealed to the Kentucky resolutions ; but their doctrine was never 
generally admitted, though different states, north and south, under 
the influence of strong excitement, seemed at times ready to act 
upon it. 



BECAME A NATION. 517 

Death of Washington.' — When appointed to command the 
army, July 3d, 1 798, Washington accepted the commission upon 
the express understanding that he was not to be called into the 
held until an emergency should arise which should require his 
presence. During the following year he continued to superintend 
from a distance the concerns of the army, as his ample and minute 
correspondence manifests ; and he was at the same time earnestly 
endeavoring to bring the affairs of his rural domain into order. 
K sixteen years' absence from home, with short intervals, had 
deranged them considerably, so that it required all the time he 
could spare from the usual occupations of life to bring them into 
tune again. It was a period of incessant activity and toil, there- 
fore, both mental and bodily. He was for hours in his study 
occupied with his pen, and for hours on horseback, riding the 
rounds of his extensive estate, visiting the various farms, and 
superintending and directing the works in operation. All this he 
did with unfailing vigor, though now in his sixty-seventh year. 

Occasional reports of the sanguinary conflict that was going on 
in Europe would reach him in the quiet groves of Mount Vernon 
and awaken his solicitude. "A more destructive sword," said he, 
"was never drawn, at least in modern times, than this war has 
produced. It is time to sheathe it and give peace to mankind. " 
A private letter written to the Secretary of War, bespeaks his 
apprehensions : " I have for some time past viewed the political 
concerns of the United States with an anxious and painful eye. 
They appear to me to be moving by hasty strides to a crisis ; but 
in what it will result, that Being, who sees, foresees, and directs all 
things, alone can tell. The vessel is afloat, or very nearly so, and 
considering myself as a passenger only, I shall trust to the mariners 
(whose duty it is to watch) to steer it into a safe port." 

Winter had set in, December, 1799, with occasional wind and 
rain and frost, yet Washington still kept up his active round 
of in-door and out-door occupations, as his diary records. He 
was in full health and vigor, dined out occasionally, and had fre- 

1 The paragraphs under this caption are abridged from the concluding 
chapter of Irving. 



518 HO IV THE UNITED STATES 

quent guests at Mount Vernon, and, as usual, was part of every 
day in the saddle, going the rounds of his estates, and, in his mili- 
tary phraseology, " visiting the outposts. " 

He had recently walked with his favorite nephew, Lawrence 
Lewis, about the grounds, showing the improvements he intended 
to make, and had especially pointed out the spot where he pur- 
posed building a new family tomb, the old one being damaged by 
the roots of trees which had overgrown it and caused it to leak. 
"This change, " said he, " I shall make the first of all, for I may 
require it before the rest. " 

" When I parted from him, " adds Lewis, " he stood on the 
steps of the front door, where he took leave of myself and another. 
... It was a bright frosty morning ; he had taken his usual ride, 
and the clear healthy flush on his cheek and his sprightly manner, 
brought the remark from both of us that we had never seen the 
general look so well. I have sometimes thought him decidedly the 
handsomest man I ever saw ; and when in a lively mood, so full of 
pleasantry, so agreeable to all with whom he associated, that I 
could hardly realize he was the same Washington whose dignity 
awed all who approached him. " 

For some time past Washington had been occupied in digesting 
a complete system on which his estate was to be managed for 
several succeeding years, specifying the cultivation of the several 
farms, with tables designating the rotations of the crops. It 
occupied thirty folio pages, and was executed with that clearness 
and method which characterized all his business papers. This was 
finished on the loth of December, and was accompanied by 
a letter of that date to his manager or steward. It is a valuable 
document, showing the soundness and vigor of his intellect 
at this advanced stage of life, and the love of order that reigned 
throughout his affairs. " My greatest anxiety," said he, on a pre- 
vious occasion, " is to have all these concerns in such a clear and 
distinct form, that no reproach may attach itself to me when I 
have taken my departure for the land of spirits." It was evident, 
however, that full of health and vigor, he looked forward to his 
long-cherished hope, — the enjoyment of a serene old age in this 
home of his heart. 



BECAME A NATION. 519 

According to his diary, the morning on which these voluminous 
instructions to his steward were dated was clear and calm, but the 
afternoon was lowering. The next day (nth), he notes that there 
was wind and rain, and ''at night a large circle round the vioon. " 
The morning of the 12th was overcast. That morning he wrote to 
Hamilton, heartily approving of a plan for a military academy, 
which the latter had submitted to the Secretary of War. About 
ten o'clock he mounted his horse, and rode out as usual to make 
the rounds of his estate. The ominous ring round the moon, 
which he had observed on the preceding night, proved a fatal 
portent. '' About one o'clock," he notes, " it began to snow, soon 
after to hail, and then turned to a settled cold rain." Having on 
an overcoat, he continued his ride without regarding the weather, 
and did not return to the house until after three. His secretary, 
Tobias Lear, approached him with letters to be franked, that they 
might be taken to the post- office in the evening. Washington 
franked the letters, but observed that the weather was too bad to 
send a servant out with them. Mr. Lear perceived that snow was 
hanging from his hair, and expressed fears that he had got wet ; 
but he rephed, '' No, his great-coat had kept him dry." As 
dinner had been waiting for him he sat down without changing his 
dress. " Li the evening," writes his secretary, "he appeared as 
well as usual." 

On the following morning the snow was three inches deep and 
still falling, which prevented him from taking his usual ride. He 
complained of a sore throat, and had evidently taken cold the day 
before. In the afternoon the weather cleared up, and he went out 
on the grounds between the house and the river, to mark some 
trees which were to be cut down. A hoarseness which had hung 
about him through the day grew worse towards night, but he made 
light of it. 

He was very cheerful in the evening, as he sat in the parlor with 
Mrs. Washington and Mr. Lear, amusing himself with the papers 
which had been brought from the post-office. When he met with 
anything interesting or entertaining, he would read it aloud as well 
as his hoarseness would permit, or he listened and made occasional 



520 1^0 IV THE UNITED STATES 

comments, while Mr. Lear read the debates of the Virginia 
assembly. On retiring to bed, Mr. Lear suggested that he should 
take something to relieve the cold. " No," replied he ; "you know 
I never take anything for a cold. Let it it go as it came." 

In the night he was taken extremely ill with ague and difficulty 
of breathing. Between two and three o'clock in the morning he 
awoke Mrs. Washington, who would have risen to call a servant ; 
but he would not permit her, lest she should take cold. At day- 
break, when the servant-woman entered to make a fire, she was 
sent to call Mr. Lear. He found the general breathing with diffi- 
culty, and hardly able to utter a word intelligibly. 

His old friend. Dr. Craik, soon arrived, and two other physi- 
cians were called in. Various remedies were tried, but without 
avail. In the course of the afternoon he appeared to be in great 
pain and distress from the difficulty of breathing, and frequently 
changed his posture. Between five and six o'clock he was assisted 
to sit up in his bed. " I feel I am going," said he ; "I thank you 
for your attentions, but I pray you will take no more trouble about 
me ; let me go off quietly ; I cannot last long." 

Between ten and eleven o'clock he expired without a struggle 
or a sigh. 

On opening his will, which he had handed to Mrs. Washington 
shortly before death, it was found to have been carefully drawn up 
by himself in the preceding July ; and by an act in conformity with 
his whole career, one of its first provisions directed the emancipa- 
tion of his slaves on the decease of his wife. It had long been his 
earnest wish that the slaves held by him in his own right should 
receive their freedom during his life, but he had found it would be 
attended with insuperable difficulties on account of their intermix- 
ture by marriage with the " dower negroes, " whom it was not in 
his power to manumit under the tenure by which they were held. 
With provident benignity he also made provision in his will for 
such as were to receive their freedom under this devise, but who, 
from age, bodily infirmities, or infancy, might be unable to support 
themselves, and he expresslv forbade, under any pretence whatso- 
ever, the sale or transportation out of Virginia, of any slave of 



BECAME A NATION. 521 

whom he might die possessed. Though born and educated a 
slaveholder, this was all in consonance with feelings, sentiments, 
and principles which he had long entertained. In a letter to Mr. 
John Mercer, in September, 1786, he writes: "I never mean, 
unless some particular circumstances should compel me to it, to 
possess another slave by purchase, it being among my first wishes 
to see some plan adopted by which slavery in this country may be 
abohshed by law." And eleven years afterwards, in August, 1797, 
he writes to his nephew, Lawrence Lewis, in a letter which we 
have had in our hands, " I wish from my soul that the Legislature 
of this state could see the policy of a gradual abolition of slavery. 
It might prevent much future mischief." 

A deep sorrow spread over the nation on hearing that Washing- 
ton was no more. Congress, which was in session, immediately 
adjourned for the day. The next morning it was resolved that the 
Speaker's chair be shrouded with black \ that the members and 
officers of the House wear black during the session, and that a 
joint committee of both Houses be appointed to consider the 
most suitable manner of doing honor to the memory of the man, 
" first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his fellow- 
citizens." Public testimonials of grief and reverence were dis- 
played in every part of the Union. Nor were these sentiments 
confined to the United States. When the news of Washington's 
death reached England, Lord Bridport, who had command of a 
British fleet of nearly sixty sail of the line, lying at Torbay, lowered 
his flag half-mast, every ship following the example ; and Bona- 
parte, First Consul of France, on announcing his death to the 
army, ordered that black crape should be suspended from all the 
standards and flags throughout the public service for ten days. 

The character of Washington may want some of those poetical 
elements which dazzle and delight the multitude, but it possessed 
fewer inequalities and a rarer union of virtues than perhaps ever fell 
to the lot of any other man. Prudence, firmness, sagacity, modera- 
tion, an overruling judgment, an immovable justice, courage that 
never faltered, patience that never wearied, truth that disdained 
all artifice, magnanimity without alloy. It seems as if Providence 



522 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

had endowed him in a pre-eminent degree with the qualities re- 
quisite to fit him for the high destiny he was called upon to fulfil 
— to conduct a momentous revolution which was to form an era 
in the history of the world, and to inaugurate a new and untried 
government, which, to use his own words, was to lay the founda- 
tion " for the enjoyment of much purer civil liberty and greater 
public happiness than have hitherto been the portion of mankind." 

The fame of Washington stands apart from every other in his- 
tory, shining with a truer lustre and a more benignant glory. With 
us his memory remains a national property, where all sympathies 
throughout our widely-extended and diversified empire meet in 
unison. Under all dissensions and amid all the storms of party, 
his precepts and example speak to us from the grave with a pater- 
nal appeal ; and his name — by all revered — forms a universal tie 
of brotherhood, — a watchword of our Union. 

"It will be the duty of the historian and the sage of all nations," 
writes the eminent British statesman. Lord Brougham, " to let no 
occasion pass of commemorating this illustrious man ; and until 
time shall be no more, will a test of the progress which our race 
has made in wisdom and virtue, be derived from the veneration 
paid to the immortal name of Washington." 

Dov/nfall of the Federalist Party. — By the spring of 1800 it 
became apparent that the Republicans were steadily gaining 
ground. In April the New York state election went against the 
Federalists. Soon after this the President dismissed some of his 
cabinet officers who were too friendly to Hamilton, and the break 
in the Federalist party became irreparable. Cotesworth Pinckney 
was the second choice of that party for President, and the Hamil- 
tonians tried to divert votes to him from Adams. The election 
was very close. Of the electoral votes, 73 were for Jefferson, 73 
for Aaron Burr, 65 for Adams, 64 for Pinckney, and i for Jay. As 
there was no name highest on the list, it was left for the election 
to be decided between the two highest candidates, by the House 
of Representatives. Intrigues followed. Some of the Federalists 
wished to elect Burr instead of their archenemy Jefferson ; but 
Hamilton used all his influence against such a scheme, and at last. 



BECAME A NATION. 523 

on February 17, 1 801, Jefferson was elected by the House. In 
another fortnight the government would have been left without 
any executive head. There were fears of anarchy and threats of 
civil war. To provide against the recurrence of such a difficulty, the 
twelfth amendment to the Constitution, adopted in 1804, changed 
the method of conducting presidential elections to that which has 
ever since been employed. 

The inauguration of Jefferson was the first that took place in the 
city of Washington, whither the Federal government had been 
removed from Philadelphia in 1800. The national capital, which 
is now fast becoming one of the finest cities in the world, was then 
a wretched village in the woods. Many of the Federalists believed 
that the election of Jefferson would entail speedy ruin upon the 
country ; but such fears proved groundless, as usual. His first 
administration was marked by national prosperity. It coincided 
with the only interval of peace between England and France dur- 
ing the Napoleonic period, and for the moment we were unmo- 
lested by those powers. There was no serious change in the 
administration of our government. Jefferson pardoned those per- 
sons who had been imprisoned under the alien and sedition laws, 
and the Republican House of Representatives impeached Judge 
Chase of Maryland, for alleged harshness in conducting trials 
under those laws ; but he was acquitted by a Republican Senate. 
Very few removals from office were made for political reasons. 
The Supreme Court, under the lead of Chief-justice Marshall, 
remained Federalist in complexion, and during the next quarter 
of a century did work of imperishable renown in strengthening and 
interpreting the Constitution. The Republicans had become 
reconciled to many Federalist ideas which at first they had con- 
demned, and now that the government was in their own hands 
they were not so jealous of its powers. 

The Louisiana Purchase. — This was shown in what was incom- 
parably the greatest event of Jefferson's administration. The 
population of the United States was rapidly increasing, and was 
beginning to pour into the Mississippi valley. In 1802 the state 
of Ohio was admitted into the union; Mississippi and Indiana 



524 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

were already organized as territories ; and a growing interest was 
felt in the western country. It was now learned that France had 
just acquired by treaty from Spain the territory of Louisiana, so 
that the mouth of the Mississippi river, and all the vast region to 
the west of it as far as the Rocky Mountains, had passed into the 
hands of an active and aggressive European power. Napoleon 
had, indeed, acquired this territory with a vague intention of 
regaining the ascendency in America, which France had lost in the 
Seven Years' War; but in 1803 the prospect of renewed war with 
England made him change his mind. With her control of Can- 
ada and her superior fleet, England might easily wrest from his 
grasp the two ends of the Mississippi river and defeat his schemes. 
It seemed better to put Louisiana out of England'-s reach by sell- 
ing it to the United States ; and accordingly Jefferson found no 
difficulty in buying it of Napoleon for fifteen million dollars. By 
this great stroke the area of the United States was more than 
doubled; before 1803 it was 827,844 square miles; Jefferson's 
purchase added to it 1,171,931 square miles, out of which have 
since been formed " the states of Louisiana, Arkansas, Missouri, 
Iowa, Kansas, and Nebraska ; the territories of Dakota, Montana, 
and Indian Territory ; and a great part of the states of Minnesota 
and Colorado and the territory of Wyoming." The effect of this 
great acquisition of territory, by such an active and prosperous 
people as the Americans, was to insure them the ultimate control 
of the continent, without the need of any foreign warfare worth 
mentioning. It presently set us free for an indefinite length of 
time from European complications ; but, on the other hand, it 
added new and formidable features to the rivalry between the free 
states and the slave states. 

In making this purchase, which was destined to exercise such 
profound influence upon the history of the United States, Jefferson 
did not pretend that he had constitutional authority for what he 
was doing. The act was so clearly for the public good that he 
assumed the responsibihty, trusting that a new constitutional 
amendment would justify it ; but he was so completely upheld by 
public sentiment that no such elaborate step was thought neces- 
sary ; the universal acquiescence was enough. 




To face page 524. 



MAP TO ILLUSTRATE THE ACQUISITION OF TERRITORY 
BY THE UNITED STATES. 

SQ. MILES. 

Area of United States in 1783 . , „ . 827,844 

Austria-Hungary, German Empire, France, and Spain .... 834,90^ 

Louisiana Purchase, 1803, with the portion of Oregon territory retained 

in 1846 1,171,931 

Austria-Hungary, German Empire, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Belgium, 

France, and Spain , , 1,171,154 

Florida Purchase, 1819 , . . , . 59,268 

England and Wales . , . 58,320 

Texan Annexation, 1845 375,239 

Austi ia-Hungary, Italy, and Switzerland c 370,472 

Mexican Cessions, 1848-53 591.318 

German Empire, France, and Spain . 593,963 

Alaska, 1867 577,390 

Austria-Hungary, German Empire, and Norway 575,314 

United States since 1867 3,602,990 

Europe . . . » , 3,986,975 




BECAME A NATION. 525 

Exploration of Oregon. — As an expander of American domin- 
ion, Jefferson did not stop here. The region beyond the Rocky 
mountains and north of Cahfornia was then quite unexplored. In 
1804 Jefferson sent an expedition under captains Lewis and 
Clark, which explored the valley of the Columbia river as far 
as the Pacific Ocean, and thus gave us a title to Oregon, though 
many years elapsed before we took possession. 

The Tripolitan War. — The Barbary States on the Mediterra- 
nean coast of Africa had been for more than four centuries a nui- 
sance to the civilized world. Their pirate cruisers swarmed upon 
the high seas and robbed the merchant ships of all nations. Im- 
portant captives they held for ransom, and all others they sold 
into hopeless slavery. European war-ships often punished them, 
but were unable to put down the evil ; and the greatest nations had 
tried to bribe them to keep the peace by paying blackmail. The 
United States had at first felt obliged to adopt this humiliating pol- 
icy, but at length our patience was exhausted. A small fleet was 
sent to the Mediterranean, and bombarded Tripoli. After a desul- 
tory warfare extending over two years, Tripoli sued for peace ; 
and the British navy presently following our example, a few years 
more saw the end of this abominable nuisance. 

Burr and Hamilton. — The popularity of Jefferson's adminis- 
tration was shown in the elections of 1804. When he was 
nominated for re-election, George Clinton was nominated with 
him for the vice-presidency, instead of Burr, who in 1801 had 
shown too much readiness to intrigue with Federalists. Cotes- 
worth Pinckney and Rufus King were the Federalist candidates. 
The election was not a close one like the election of 1800. Out 
of 176 electoral votes, the Federalists received only 14, and 
in both houses of Congress the Republican majority was over- 
whelming. After the nominations, but before the election, the 
country was shocked by a dreadful tragedy. The disappointed 
Burr had tried, with Federalist help, to succeed Clinton as gov- 
ernor of New York, but was defeated. Here, as before in 1801, 
Hamilton had used his influence against him, and now, in a fit 
of desperation, Burr determined to get rid of this enemy. He 



526 now THE UNITED STATES 

contrived, in July, 1804, to force Hamilton into a duel, in which 
the latter was slain. The mourning of the country over the loss 
of this great man was intense, and the wretched Burr found that 
his public career was ruined. After a wild attempt to set up a 
government for himself in the Mississippi valley, he was arrested 
and tried for treason, and though acquitted for want of sufficiently 
definite evidence, he became an outcast from society. 

Embargo. — Jefferson's second administration was the beginning 
of a stormy period which ended in war. Under Washington and 
Adams we had with difficulty been kept from -getting drawn into 
the world-wide struggle between England and France. Now that 
strife was renewed on such a gigantic scale as to force the whole 
civihzed world to take sides. With his famous Berlin and Milan 
decrees, Napoleon sought to prevent neutral vessels from entering 
British harbors, while England replied with decrees, known as 
orders in council, forbidding neutral vessels to enter the harbors 
of any nation in league with Napoleon, or under his leadersliip. 
The United States, as a prominent maritime neutral nation, had 
obtained a large share of the carrying trade, and these decrees 
wrought great injury to American commerce. If an American 
vessel touched at almost any port of continental Europe, the first 
British cruiser that came along deemed her its lawful prey ; if she 
touched at a British port, then she might expect to be seized by 
the next French craft she should meet. The two greatest naval 
powers in the world were thus united in a wholesale robbery of 
American ships and American merchandise. But England did 
us most harm, because she had more war-ships and more priva- 
teers than France. In another respect England possessed a 
peculiar power of annoying us. She claimed and exercised the 
right of stopping the vessels of other nations, and forcibly taking 
from them any seamen who appeared to be British subjects, in 
order to compel them to serve in the British navy. Such a claim, 
on the part of France, would annoy Americans but little, for no 
one was likely to mistake an American for a Frenchman. But to 
distinguish an American from an Englishman was not so easy, and 
consequently a great many citizens of the United States were 



BECAME A NATION. 527 

impressed into the British service. The Revolutionary feehng 
of hostiHty to Great Britain, which had begun before 1800 to 
diminish in intensity, was revived and strengthened by these 
outrages. In 1807 the British frigate Leopard, of fifty guns, close 
to the coast of Virginia, fired upon the American frigate Chesa- 
peake, of thirty-eight guns, and killed or wounded more than 
twenty men. The American ship, being not even prepared for 
action, hauled down her flag, and was boarded by the British, 
who seized four of the crew and carried them off to Halifax. One 
of these, who was a British subject, was hanged as a deserter ; the 
other three were condemned to death, and then reprieved on con- 
dition of entering the British service. 

At the news of this dastardly outrage the whole country was 
thrown into such excitement as had not been witnessed since the 
battle of Lexington. A cabinet meeting was held at Washington, 
measures were taken for procuring military stores and strengthen- 
ing our coast defences, and the states were called upon for one 
hundred thousand men. But the British government avoided war 
for the moment by sending a special envoy to Washington to 
chaffer and procrastinate. The act of the Leopard was dis- 
avowed, but there was no willingness shown to make reparation. 
Feeling unprepared for war, the United States government had 
recourse to an exceedingly stupid and dangerous measure. It 
hoped to browbeat England and France by depriving them of 
our trade, and accordingly in 1807, there was passed the "embargo 
act," which forbade any vessel to set out from the United States 
for any foreign port. This wonderful piece of legislation did more 
harm to American commerce than all the cruisers of France and 
England could do ; while, as a means of bringing either of these 
adversaries to reason, it was quite useless. England, indeed, 
seemed rather to enjoy it, for while it diminished her commercial 
dealings with America, it increased her share in the general 
carrying-trade of the world. In America the distress was felt 
most severely in New England, and, as usual in those days, 
whenever any part of the country felt dissatisfied with the policy 
of the Federal government, threats of secession were heard. In 



528 HO IV THE UNITED STATES 

1809 the embargo was repealed, and the "non-intercourse act" 
took its place. This act prohibited trade with England and 
France so long as their obnoxious measures should be kept in 
force, but it allowed trade with all other countries. It was as 
ineffectual as the embargo, but did not do quite so much harm to 
American commerce. The close of Jefferson's presidency was 
thus a season of national humiliation. In twenty years our great 
statesmen had done a wonderful work in creating a government 
able to make itself respected at home ; but it was still too weak, 
in a military sense, to make itself respected abroad. 

§ 2. Second War with Great Britain. 

Strength of the Republicans. — This humiliating situation of 
the United States was not due to any fault of Jefferson or his 
party, and in the election of 1808 they won another great victory, 
though not quite so decisive as in 1804. The Federalist candi- 
dates were the same as before, Pinckney and King ; and now they 
obtained 47 of the 176 electoral votes. James Madison, who had 
been Secretary of State since 1801, was elected President, and 
George Clinton was re-elected to the vice-presidency. Madison 
was a political thinker of the highest order, and had done more 
than any other man toward constructing our Federal Constitution. 
He had been a leading FederaUst, though more moderate than 
Hamilton or Adams ; but had soon taken sides with the Repub- 
licans. But his intelligence was too broad to allow him to be a 
mere man of party ; he was never an out-and-out Republican, like 
Jefferson. By 1804 many of the most intelligent Federalists had 
gone over to the Republicans ; and the more rigid-minded men 
who were left, especially in New England, made the party more and 
more narrow and sectional, and at length brought it into general 
discredit. The most notable defection from the Federahst party 
was that of John Quincy Adams, about the time of the embargo. 

Declaration of "War. — In 18 10 Congress repealed the non- 
intercourse act, which as a measure of intimidation had accom- 
plished nothing. Congress now sought to use the threat of 



BECAME A NATION. 529 

non-intercourse as a sort of bribe. It informed England and 
France, that if either nation would repeal its obnoxious edicts, the 
non-intercourse act would be revived against the other. Napoleon, 
who was as eminent for lying as for fighting, then informed the 
United States that he revoked the Berlin and Milan decrees as far 
as American ships were concerned. At the same time he gave 
secret orders by which the decrees were to be practically enforced 
as harshly as ever. But the lie served its purpose. Congress 
revived the non- intercourse act against Great Britain alone ; and 
in iSii, hostihties actually began on sea and land. On sea, the 
American frigate Preside ?i I had an encounter with the British 
sloop Litfle Belt, and nearly knocked her to pieces without suffer- 
ing any damage. On land, Tecumseh and his warriors, attacking 
our northwestern settlements with British assistance, were defeated 
at Tippecanoe by Gen. Harrison. The growing war-feeling was 
shown in the election of Henry Clay, of Kentucky, as speaker of 
the House of Representatives, while on the floor of the House the 
leadership fell to John Caldwell Calhoun, of South Carolina, and 
in the Senate to William Crawford, of Georgia. Mr. Madison was 
nominated for a second term on condition of adopting the war- 
policy ; and on June i8, 1812, war against Great Britain was 
formally declared. Five days later the British government revoked 
its orders in council ; but this concession came too late. The 
Americans had lost all patience, and probably nothing short of an 
abandonment of the right of search on Great Britain's part could 
have prevented the war. The Federalists of New England, how- 
ever, still opposed the war, and of the members of Congress who 
voted for it, three-fourths were from the South and West. That 
this Federalist opposition was somewhat factious, would appear 
from the presidential campaign. The Federalists were too weak 
to nominate a candidate for the presidency, and Mr. Madison's 
only competitor was De Witt Clinton, of New York, who had been 
nominated by a section of the Republicans as likely to prove a 
more efficient war magistrate than Madison. Most of the Federal- 
ists now supported Clinton in a coalition which, as usual in such 
cases, proved disastrous to both sides. Of 218 electoral votes, 



.530 HO IV rilE UNITED STATES 

Madison received 128, and was elected; die Federalists fell 
more than ever into disfavor, and Clinton's career was henceforth 
restricted to his own state. 

Naval Victories. — The election showed that the war was popu- 
lar. It had been made so by a series of naval victories which 
astonished everybody. On the 13th of August, the frigate Essex, 
Captain Porter, captured the sloop Alert, after a fight of eight min- 
utes, without losing a man. On the 19th, the frigate Constitution, 
Captain Hull, after a half-hour's fight in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, 
captured the frigate, Gnerriere. The American ship had 14 men 
killed and wounded, and was ready for action again in a couple of 
hours; the British ship lost 100 men, her three masts with all her 
rigging were shot away, and her hull was so badly damaged that 
she could not be carried off as a prize. On the 13th of October, 
the sloop Wasp, Captain Jones, captured the sloop Frolic, in a des- 
perate fight off Cape Hatteras. On the 25th, the frigate United 
States, Captain Decatur, captured the frigate Macedonian, off the 
island of Madeira, after a fight of an hour and a half. The British 
ship lost 106 men, was totally dismasted, and had nearly 100 shot- 
holes in her hull, but was brought away to America; Decatur's 
ship lost only 1 2 men, and was quite uninjured. 

These remarkable victories continued. On the 29th of Decem- 
ber, the Constitution, Captain Bainbridge, in a two hours' fight off 
the coast of Brazil, knocked to pieces the frigate yava, which lost 
230 men and had to be destroyed. On the 24th of February, 
1813, off the coast of Guiana, the sloop ITornet, Captain Lawrence, 
destroyed the brig Peacock, which sank before her crew could be 
removed. The Hornefs rigging was much injured, but she lost 
only four men. 

To appreciate the force of these facts, we need to remember that 
during the preceding twenty years of almost continuous warfare 
with France and her allies, in hundreds of such single combats, the 
British navy had lost but five ships. Now in six fights within a 
single year against American vessels, the British had been shock- 
ingly defeated every time. The explanation was to be found pardy 
in the superiority of our ship-building, partly in the superiority of 



BECAME A NATION. 531 

our gun-practice and the better discipline of our crews. One of the 
British captains won success by training his men after the American 
method. On the ist of June, 1813, the British frigate Shannon, 
Captain Broke, captured the American frigate Chesapeake, in a 
severe battle near Boston harbor. The Americans lost 148 men, 
and the British 83 ; and the Chesapeake suffered more damage than 
her antagonist, though the disparity was less than in the case of 
the American victories above mentioned. The extreme jubilation 
in England served as an index to the chagrin which had been 
caused by the six successive defeats. On the 14th of August, the 
American brig Argus was captured in the British channel by the 
brig Pelican, and for a moment it might have seemed as if the 
spell of American success was broken. But a few weeks later 
Lieutenant Burrows, in the brig Enterprise, captured the brig 
Boxer, off Portland, Maine. In the spring Captain Porter, in the 
frigate Essex, had sailed around Cape Horn into the Pacific Ocean, 
where he made a famous cruise and did immense damage to Brit- 
ish commerce. In March, 18 14, he was attacked in the harbor 
of Valparaiso by two British frigates, the Phxbe and Cherub, and 
after the bloodiest fight of the war, the Essex surrendered. In 
April, 1 8 14, the American sloop Peacock captured the brig Eper- 
vier, off the coast of Florida ; in May the Wasp captured the sloop 
Reindeer, and in September the sloop Avon, botl^ actions taking 
place in the British channel. In both there was the same prodi- 
gious disparity of loss as in earlier fights. The Reindeer and Avon 
were completely destroyed, the one losing 65 men, the other 100, 
while in the former action the Wasp^s loss was 26, in the latter 
only three. On the 20th of February, 1815, the Constitution, now 
commanded by Captain Stewart, capped the climax by capturing the 
frigate Cyane, and the sloop Levant, in an action of forty minutes 
near the island of Madeira. The two British ships together were 
barely a match in strength for the Constitution, but were very skil- 
fully handled ; and the victory of " Old Ironsides " was as brilliant 
as any recorded in naval annals. A few weeks later the hornet 
captured the brig Penguin, off the Cape of Good Hope, and in 
the Indian Ocean the Peacock closed the long tale of victory by 



532 HO IV THE UNITED STATES 

overcoming the weaker Nautilus. These last three victories 
occurred after peace had been declared. 

Thus out of sixteen sea-combats, with approximately equal forces, 
the Americans had been victorious in thirteen. The record of our 
privateers was not less remarkable. During the war we took about 
1 700 British vessels, while the British took about an equal number 
from us. Considering that the American navy in 1 8 1 2 consisted 
of about a dozen ships, while the British navy numbered more 
than a thousand, and that the Americans had not a single line-of- 
battle ship afloat, these results might well be called marvellous. 
No other nation has ever won such laurels in contending against 
the " mistress of the seas." The moral effect upon Europe was 
prodigious. Henceforth the United States ceased to be regarded 
as a nation that could be insulted with impunity. 

The War in the Northwest. — Except for the moral effect of 
these splendid sea-fights, the United States gained comparatively 
little by the war. On land the offensive operations of the army 
were feeble and ineffectual. The army was small and poorly 
trained, and too much under the control of politicians. Hence 
we began with defeats. The military object of the Americans was 
to invade Canada, and conquer it if possible. The military object 
of the British was to invade the United States, and either detach a 
portion of our northwestern territory, or secure positions which 
might prove valuable in bargaining for terms of peace. The most 
important frontier town, Detroit, was held by William Hull, gov- 
ernor of the Michigan Territory, a gallant veteran of the Revolution- 
ary war. When war was declared he marched into Canada, but 
was driven back to Detroit by a superior force under General 
Brock. After a short siege Hull was ol)liged to surrender the town^ 
thus throwing open to the enemy the whole region northwest of 
Ohio. In the fit of unreasoning rage and disappointment caused 
by this grave disaster, Hull was tried by a court-martial and sen- 
tenced to death, but was pardoned by Mr. Madison on account of 
past services. Subsequent research has shown that the verdict was 
grossly unjust ; and the reputation of this brave but unfortunate 
man is now redeemed. In October a small force crossed Niagara 



BECAME A NATION. 533 

river and foolishly attacked the British in their strong position on 
Queenstown Heights j it was defeated with heavy loss. Harrison, 
who had succeeded to the command in the northwest, now 
attempted to recover Detroit ; but his advanced guard, under 
General Winchester, was defeated at the river Raisin on the 2 2d of 
January, 181 3, by the British and Indians under General Proctor, 
and all the prisoners were cruelly massacred by the Indians. 
Harrison was then driven back to Fort Meigs by Proctor, who 
besieged him there, but unsuccessfully. 

The War on the Lakes. — During the summer of 181 3 both 
British and Americans were busily engaged in building fleets with 
which to control Lake Erie. On the loth of September the two 
fleets met in battle, the British commanded by Commodore 
Barclay, the Americans by Commodore Perry. The forces were 
nearly equal. The battle, won by magnificent skill and daring on 
the part of the American commander, ended in the surrender of 
the whole British fleet, and turned the scale of war in the north- 
west. Ferried across the lake by Perry's fleet, Harrison's army 
now entered Canada, and inflicted a crushing defeat upon Proctor 
at the river Thames (October 5). This was a severe blow to 
the Indians also, for their famous leader, Tecumseh, was killed. 
As a consequence of the victories of Perry and Harrison, the 
Americans recovered Detroit, and the British were driven from our 
northwestern territory. 

Next summer the Americans again invaded Canada, under 
command of an excellent general, Jacob Brown, with whom served 
an officer presently to become famous, — Winfield Scott. They 
crossed the Niagara river, and defeated the British in four well- 
fought battles at Chippewa (July 5), Lundy's Lane (July 25), and 
Fort Erie (Aug. 15 and Sept. 17) ; but in spite of these successes, 
they obtained no secure foothold in Canada, and retreated across 
the river before cold weather. While these things were going on, 
the British were planning an invasion of northeastern New York, by 
the route which Carleton and Burgoyne had followed. To this end 
it was necessary to gain control of Lake Champlain, as Carleton 
had done in 1776. Fleets were built, as on Lake Erie the year 



534 HOJV THE UNITED STATES 

before, and on the 1 1 th of September a decisive battle was fought 
not far from Valcour Island, where Arnold had maintained such 
a heroic struggle. The British fleet was annihilated by Commo- 
dore Macdonough, and the British enterprise was abandoned. 
But while this attempt upon New York was a failure, the British 
succeeded in seizing the unoccupied wilds of Maine east of the 
Penobscot river, and thus creating a panic in New England. 

The War in the South. — The region west of Georgia and south 
of the Tennessee river was then a wilderness with no important towns 
except Natchez and Mobile. The principal military power in it 
was that of the Creek Indians, who took the occasion to attack 
the frontier settlements, and in August, 1813, began with a terrible 
massacre at Fort Mimms, near Mobile. This brought upon the 
scene the formidable Tennessee militia, commanded by Andrew 
Jackson, who as a youth had served under Thomas Sumter in the 
Revolutionary War. After a bloody campaign of seven months, 
Jackson had completely subdued the Creeks, and was ready to 
cope with a very different sort of enemy. 

In March, 18 14, Napoleon was dethroned and sent to Elba, 
and thus some of Wellington's finest troops were detached for 
service in America. In August some 5000 of these veterans 
landed in Chesapeake Bay, took the defenceless city of Washing- 
ton, and burned the public buildings there, which was not much 
to their credit. They then attempted Baltimore, but were de- 
feated, and retired from the scene to take part in a more serious 
enterprise. This expedition against Washington was designed 
chiefly for insult; the expedition against New Orleans was de- 
signed to inflict deadly injury. It was intended to make 
a permanent conquest of the lower Mississippi, and to secure 
for Great Britain the western bank of the river. In December 
the British army of 12,000 men, under Sir Edward Pakenham, 
landed below New Orleans. To oppose these veterans of the 
peninsula, Jackson had 6000 militia of that sturdy race whose 
fathers had vanquished Ferguson at King's Mountain, and whose 
children so nearly vanquished Grant at Shiloh. He awaited 
the enemy in an entrenched position, where, on the 8th of Jan- 



BECAME A NATION. 535 

iiary, 1815, Pakenham was unwise enough to try to overwhelm 
him by a direct assault. In less than half an hour the British 
were in full retreat, leaving Pakenham and 2600 men behind 
them, killed or wounded; the American loss was 8 killed and 13 
wounded. The disparity of loss is perhaps unparalleled in history. 
Treaty of Ghent. — News travelled so slowly in those days that 
the victory of New Orleans, like the three last naval victories, 
occurred after peace had been made. From the first the war had 
been unpopular in New England. Our victories on the sea made 
little difference in the vast naval force of Great Britain, which was 
able to blockade our whole Atlantic coast. Now that Napoleon 
was out of the way, it would be necessary for the United States to 
fight single-handed with Great Britain. In view of these things, 
and provoked by the invasion of Maine, the Federalists of New 
England held a convention at Hartford, in December, 18 14, to 
discuss the situation of affairs and decide upon the proper course 
to be pursued. As there was much secrecy in the proceedings, a 
suspicion was aroused that the purpose of the convention was to 
break up the Union and form a separate New England confeder- 
acy. This suspicion completed the political ruin of the Federalist 
party. What might have come from the Hartford convention we 
do not know, for on the 24th of December the treaty of peace was 
signed at Ghent. The treaty left things apparently just as they 
had been before the war, for England did not explicitly renounce 
the right of search and impressment. But in spite of this it had 
been made evident that European nations could no longer regard 
the United States as a weak nation which might be insulted with 
impunity. Partly for this reason, and partly because of the long 
European peace which followed, the British claim to the right of 
search and impressment was no longer exercised, and at length 
in 1856 was expressly renounced. 

§ 3. Rise of the Democracy. 

The Era of Good Feeling. — In the presidential election of 
181 6, the Federalist candidate, Rufus King, received only 34 elec- 
toral votes, against 187 for the Republican candidate, James Mon- 



536 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

roe. In 1820, when Monroe was nominated for a second term, 
the Federahsts put no candidate into the field, and Monroe's elec- 
tion was practically unanimous ; for form's sake one of the elec- 
tors voted for John Quincy Adams, so that no other president 
might share with Washington the glory of an election absolutely 
unanimous. The two parties had now acquiesced in each other's 
measures, and all, save a few malcontents, called themselves Re- 
publicans. The end of the war was the end of the political issues 
which had divided parties since 1789, and some little time was 
required for new issues to define themselves ; so that the period 
of Monroe's administrations has been called '' the era of good feel- 
ing." In point of fact, however, it was by no means a time of 
millennial happiness. 

Florida. — The changed attitude of the United States toward 
European powers was illustrated in two events of this period. The 
Seminole Indians, aided by the Spanish authorities in Florida, 
molested our southern frontier, until General Jackson invaded that 
territory in order to put an end to the nuisance. Though Jack- 
son's rough measures were not fully sustained by the United 
States, yet resistance on the part of Spain was so hopeless that she 
consented to sell Florida to the United States for five million dol- 
lars ; and a treaty to this effect was made in 18 19. 

Monroe Doctrine. — About this time the revolt of Mexico and 
the Spanish colonies in South America had made considerable 
progress, and it seemed likely that the " Holy Alliance " of Aus- 
tria, Prussia, and Russia would interfere to assist Spain in subduing 
her colonies. To check such a movement, Mr. Monroe declared, 
in a message to Congress in 1823, that the United States regarded 
the continents of North and South America as no longer- open to 
colonization, and would resent an attempt, on the part of any 
European nation to reduce any independent American nation to 
the condition of a colony. In this bold declaration the United 
States had the full sympathy of England, and it proved effectual. 
The attitude of mind implied in such a declaration showed that 
our period of national weakness was felt to have come to an end. 

Growth of the Nation. — Since the time of Washington the 



BECAME A NATION. 537 

growth of the United States had been remarkable indeed. The 
population now numbered nearly ten million ; the public revenue had 
increased from five million dollars to twenty-five miUion dollars. 
New states were formed with surprising rapidity, as the obstacles to 
migration were removed. The chief obstacles had been the hos- 
tility of the Indians, and the difficulty of getting from place to 
place. During the late war the Indian power had been broken by 
Harrison in the north, and by Jackson in the south. In 1807 
Robert Fulton had invented the steamboat. In 181 1 a steam- 
boat was launched on the Ohio river at Pittsburg, and presently 
such nimble craft were plying on all the western rivers, carrying 
settlers and traders, farm produce and household utensils. This 
gave an immense impetus to the western migration. After Ohio 
had been admitted to the Union in 1802, ten years had elapsed 
before the next state, Louisiana, was added. But in six years 
after the war a new state was added every year : Indiana in 181 6, 
Mississippi in 181 7, Illinois in 181 8, Alabama in 18 19, Maine in 
1820, Missouri in 1821. The admission of the last-named state 
was a portentous event, for it suddenly brought the slavery ques- 
tion into the foreground. 

Growth of Slavery. — Before the Revolution all the colonies 
had negro slaves, but north of Maryland these slaves were few in 
number and of no very great value as property. Hence they were 
soon emancipated in all the northern states except Delaware. At 
the close of the eighteenth century there was a strong anti-slavery 
feeling even in Virginia and North Carolina, and it was generally 
supposed that slavery would gradually become extinct without 
making serious political trouble. The only states strongly in favor 
of slavery were South Carolina and Georgia, where the cultivation 
of rice and indigo seemed to make negro labor indispensable. 
But at about that time the inventions of the steam-engine, the 
spinning-machine, and the power-loom had combined to set up 
the giant manufactories of England, and there was thus suddenly 
created a great demand for cotton. In 1 793 Eli Whitney; a Con- 
necticut schoolmaster living in Georgia, invented the famous cot- 
ton-gin, an instrument so simple that slaves could use it, and 



538 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

which enabled cotton to be cleaned and got ready for market with 
astonishing speed. Hitherto very little cotton had been grown in 
South Carolina and Georgia, but now cotton -growing became very 
profitable, and there was a great demand for negro slaves. In 
1808, according to a provision of the Federal Constitution, the 
importation of slaves from Africa was prohibited by law, so that 
henceforth cotton-planters could only obtain slaves by buying 
them in such border states as Virginia and Kentucky. This made 
the raising of negroes so profitable to the tobacco-planters of the 
border states, that anti-slavery sentiments soon died out among 
them, and the way was prepared for uniting all the slave states into 
a solid South opposed to a solid North. Henceforth there was no 
likelihood that slavery would die a natural death. On the con- 
trary, the policy of the slave-holders became extremely aggressive, 
and sought new territory in which to introduce this barbarous sys- 
tem of labor and build up new states to maintain and extend 
their authority in the Federal Union. 

The Missouri Compromise. — It was not until the westward 
migration had crossed the Mississippi river, and entered upon 
the vast Louisiana territory which Jefferson had added to the 
national domain, that the conflict began. A kind of compromise 
had been kept up from the beginning by admitting a free state 
and a slave state by turns, so as to balance each other in Congress. 
Thus Vermont had been counterbalanced by Kentucky, Tennessee 
by Ohio, Louisiana by Indiana, Mississippi by IlHnois. In like 
manner Alabama, in 1819, was naturally counterbalanced in the 
following year by Maine ; but as Missouri was also knocking at 
the door of Congress, the southern members now refused to admit 
Maine until the northern members should consent to admit 
Missouri as a slave state. The discussion was the most important 
that had come up since the adoption of the Constitution ; for it 
involved the whole question of the power of the government to 
allow or prohibit slavery in the national domain. It was settled 
in 1826 by the famous Missouri Compromise, effected chiefly by 
the efforts of Henry Clay. Missouri was admitted as a slave state, 
but it was agreed that slavery should be prohibited in the re- 



BECAME A NATION. 539 

mainder of the Louisiana purchase north of the parallel of 36° 
30 '. In other words, the slave-holders gained their point by 
promising "not to do so any more"; and, hke most such prom- 
ises, it was kept till an occasion arose for breaking it. That 
occasion did not arise for more than thirty years, and it was not 
until the latter part of this interval that the question of slavery 
again became uppermost in national politics. 

The Young West. — It was the extension of national territory 
or the admission of new states that brought up the slavery ques- 
tion. Several years now elapsed before the national area or the 
number of states was increased. Enough country was already 
covered to answer the needs of the people until better means of 
communication were devised. The most important avenue of 
trade opened in this period was the Erie Canal, which brought 
the Hudson river directly into connection with the Great Lakes. 
This insured the commercial supremacy of the city of New York, 
as the chief outlet for western traffic. At the time of the Declara- 
tion of Independence, the state of New York ranked seventh 
among the thirteen in population, and the Indian frontier was 
between Albany and Utica. In the census of 1820 the city of 
New York for the first time showed a larger population than 
Philadelphia, and the state came to the head of the list, instead 
of Virginia, which had hitherto been the foremost state. It was 
the westward migration from New England that first filled up 
central New York, and carried the state to the head of the list. 
The Erie canal and steam navigation on the lakes presently car- 
ried on this migration into Michigan ; but it was not till 1837 that 
that state was admitted into the Union as a balance for Arkansas, 
admitted in 1836. New England people had meanwhile occupied 
the northern parts of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois ; but it was not 
New England that first determined the character of the young 
west. Long before the overflow of New England had filled rural 
New York, the overflow of Virginia and North Carolina had made 
the states of Kentucky and Tennessee, and a hardy population 
from all parts of the Alleghanies had thrust itself into all parts of 
the west, from the prairies of Illinois to the highlands of Alabama. 



540 //OJ^V THE UNITED STATES 

These people were as different from the slave-holding planters of 
South Carolina or Louisiana as from the merchants and yeomanry 
of New England ; and when by and by the stress of civil war 
came, they were the stout ligament which held the Union together. 
They were rough and ready, inclined to despise the refinements 
of civilized life, very loose in their ideas of finance, and somewhat 
too careless in their use of pistols. They were intensely American 
withal, cared nothing for a European civilization of which they 
knew nothing, and were sufficient unto themselves. These men 
had their representative statesman in Thomas Benton,^ and their 
popular hero in Andrew Jackson. 

Whigs and Democrats. — In the presidential election of 1824 
all parties called themselves Republicans, and pohtical issues were 
so ill-defined that the contest seemed to concern itself only with 
the personal merits of the candidates. The real but unrecognized 
issue was between the notions of the young democratic west and 
the polite, half-aristocratic notions of the old Atlantic states. The 
four candidates were John Quincy Adams, one of the grandest 
figures in American history ; Henry Clay, the genial author of the 
Missouri Compromise ; WiUiam Crawford, earliest representative 
alike of the wire-pullers and of the secessionists ; and the invincible 
soldier, Andrew Jackson. The latter had the greatest number of 
electoral votes, but no one had a majority ; and so the election 
was thrown into the House of Representatives, where the friends 
of Clay, uniting with the friends of Adams, secured the election of 
the latter. Jackson's friends thought that their hero had been ill- 
used, but were made happy by the next election, in 1828, where 
Adams and Jackson were the only opposing candidates, and the 
former obtained only d,^, out of 261 electoral votes. Jackson's 
victory in 1828 was the victory of the west over the east, and 
marked the rise of the new democracy. It was in the canvass pre- 
ceding this election that Jackson's supporters assumed the name 
of Democrats. Their opponents were known at first as " National 
Republicans " ; but in the course of his administration, as they saw 

1 He did not represent their shaky financial notions, however; on this point 
his views were so sound that he was nicknamed " Old Bullion." 



BECAME A NATION. 541 

fit to represent Jackson as a kind of tyrant, like George III., they 
took on the name of " Whigs" ; and henceforth, until 1854, Whig 
and Democrat were the names of the two great political parties in 
the United States. 

The Whigs approved of allowing the Federal government to use 
the public money in building roads, dredging rivers, and making 
other internal improvements ; the Democrats thought that such 
things ought to be done by the local governments or by private 
enterprise. The Whigs espoused the policy of taxing the whole 
community in order to support a few manufacturers in carrying on 
a business which, without such aid, it was presumed would be a 
losing one. This was done by means of a high tariff upon im- 
ported goods. It was ingeniously called " protecting American 
labor," and was glorified by Clay as " the American system," 
though in reality the custom is as old as human greed, and might 
as well be called Asiatic as American. The Democrats opposed 
this policy, but not always intelligently. Again, the Whigs were 
in favor of continuing the National Bank which had been chartered 
by Congress in 1816 ; the Democrats were bitterly opposed to it; 
and, with regard to all these points — internal improvements, 
tariff and bank — the Whigs favored a loose, and the Democrats a 
strict, interpretation of the Federal Constitution. 

Tariffs. — The war of 181 2 had made it difficult to obtain man- 
ufactured goods from abroad, and articles of an inferior quality 
had in many instances begun to be made in the United States. 
Our manufacturers thought this scarcity a desirable thing, and tried 
to prolong it after the end of the war by taxing imported goods 
so heavily as to make people buy their inferior articles instead. 
One effect of the tariff has been to prevent American goods from 
attaining the high standard of excellence which they would have 
reached under a system of free competition. For example, if 
Scotch woollens were to be admitted free of duty, American 
woollens would either have to be made as excellent as the Scotch, 
or people would stop buying them ; and accordingly they would 
soon come to be as fine as the Scotch goods. But people were 
afraid that unless foreign competition were ruled out, it would 



542 I/O IV THE UNITED STATES 

he impossible to get American manufactories well started. High 
tariffs were accordingly adopted in 1828 and 1832. 

Nullification. — These tariffs were bitterly opposed by the 
southern states, except Louisiana, where the sugar planters were 
ready to admit the high-tariff principle in order to apply it to 
foreign sugars. The southerners had no manufactures of their own, 
and naturally preferred to buy good clothes and good tools at a 
low price, rather than poor clothes and poor tools at a high price. 
The doctrine of the Kentucky resolutions of 1799 made great 
progress in the south; and in 1832 a state convention in South 
Carolina declared the tariff law null and void, forbade the collec- 
tion of duties at any port in the state, and called for troops to re- 
sist the Federal government if necessary. This was " nullification. " 
It found no favor in the eyes of Jackson, though he disliked the 
tariff law as much as the South Carolinians. He declared that 
" the Federal Union must and shall be preserved," sent an armed 
fleet to Charleston harbor, and warned the people of South Caro- 
lina that any attempt at resisting the law would be put down with 
a high hand. Presently, in 1833, a new tariff law, known as the 
" Compromise Tariff," was passed, and some concessions were 
made which afforded South Carolina an opportunity to repeal her 
ordinance of nullification. 

A New Era. — About 1830 the United States were entering 
upon an era of more rapid progress than had ever been witnessed 
before. The era was quite as remarkable for the civilized world as 
a whole. In 1830 the first American railroad was put in operation, 
and by 1840 nearly all the chief cities east of the Alleghanies were 
connected by rail, and the system was rapidly extending itself in 
the west. The effect of railroads was especially great in America, 
where the ordinary roads have always been very bad, as compared 
with those of Europe. Their effect in hastening the growth of 
our western country by and by surpassed that which had been 
wrought by steamboats. In 1836 John Ericsson invented the 
screw propeller, which required much less fuel than the paddle 
wheel ; and two years afterward steamships began to make regular 
trips across the Atlantic. Presently this set up the vast emigra- 



BECAME A .\ATIOX. 543 

rion of laborers from Europe, which has been going on ever since. 
Our cities began to lose their village-like appearance; in 1830 
Xew York had a population of rather more than two hundred 
thousand. Agricultural machines began to be invented ; friction 
matches came into use; anthracite coal came in to aid both 
manufacttires and locomotion ; and in 1836 the Patent Office had 
so much to do that it was made a distinct bureau. At the same time 
om- methods of education and our ne^*spapers were improved, and 
American literature began to attract the world's attention. Before 
1S30. Bryant, Ir\-ing, and Cooper had become distinguished : in the 
decade after 1830, Longfellow, \\liittier, Hawthorne, Holmes, Ban- 
croft, and Prescott appeared on the scene, soon to be followed by 
Emerson. In this period Daniel Webster, already famous for 
many years, was at the height of his wonderful power. He was 
probably the greatest orator that ever lived, after Demosthenes and 
Chatham, and as a master of the Enghsh language he was superior 
to Chatham. His magnificent speeches, the most impressive 
passages from which were made familiar to every schoolboy, con- 
tributed greatly to raise the love of the Union into a romantic 
sentiment for which people would fight as desperately as ever 
cavaUer fought in defence of his king. In this way Webster ren- 
dered incalculable ser\'ice, and not a bit too soon. For humani- 
tarian movements were beginning to mark this new era ; and 
along with prison reform and temperance societies, came the 
abohtionists, li^^ith their assaults upon negro slavery, bravely led in 
the press by WilMam Lloyd Garrison, in Congress by John Quinc^ 
Adams, who in 183 1 was elected to the House of Representatives, 
where he staid till his death in 1848. The southern members tried 
to smother the discussion of the subject of slavery, but Adams 
could not be silenced, and in 1836 he went so far as to enunciate 
the doctrine upon which Mr. Lincoln afterward rested his proc- 
lamation of emancipation. 

The Spoils System. — Some of the changes which marked this 
new era were by no means changes for the better. Hitherto, all 
our presidents, taken from the two oldest states, Massachusetts and 
^' rginia, had been men of aristocratic type, with well-trained 



544 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

minds and polished manners, like European statesmen; and all 
except Monroe had been men of extraordinary ability. In Jack- 
son, the first president from beyond the Alleghanies, the idol of 
the rough pioneer west, we had a very different type of man. 
There was immense native energy, w^ith little training ; downright 
honesty of purpose, with a very feeble grasp of the higher prob- 
lems of state-craft. Jackson was a man of violent measures and 
made many mistakes. His greatest mistake was the use of gov- 
ernment offices as rewards for his friends and adherents. Hereto- 
fore the civil service had been practically independent of politics, 
as it is to-day in England. There had been but one instance of a 
great party overthrow ; that was in the election of 1800. Jefferson's 
followers then wished him to turn Federalist postmasters and col- 
lectors out of office, and put Republicans in their places ; but he 
had been too wise to do so. In 1829 Jackson introduced into 
national politics the principle of " rotation in office, " by which 
government officials were liable to be turned out every fourth year, 
not for any misconduct, but simply to make room for hungry 
applicants belonging to the opposite party. Jackson was not the 
inventor of this system. It had already been tried in state politics, 
and brought to something like perfection in New York. It was a 
New York politician, William Marcy, who first used the phrase, 
" to the victors belong the spoils," thereby implying that a public 
office is not a public trust but a bit of plunder, and that the ser- 
vices of an officer paid by the people are due, not to the people, 
but to a party or a party-chief. The author of the phrase doubt- 
less never supposed that he was making one of the most infamous 
remarks recorded in history ; and the honest Jackson would prob- 
ably have been greatly surprised if he had been allowed a glimpse 
of the future, and seen that he was introducing a gigantic system 
of knavery and corruption which within forty years would grow 
into the most serious of the evils threatening the continuance of 
our free government. 

Whigs come into Power. — Jackson made another mistake, 
which was trivial compared with the adoption of the spoils system, 
])ut which created much more disturbance at the time. His antip- 



BECAME A NATION, 545 

athy to the National Bank led him not only, in 1832, to veto the 
bill for the renewal of its charter, but in the following year to with- 
draw the public money deposited in the bank, and distribute it 
among various state banks. This violent measure led to a series 
of events, which in 1837 culminated in the most distressing 
commercial panic that had ever been known in America. Martin 
Van Buren, of New York, was then President, having been elected 
in 1836 over the western soldier, Harrison. Van Buren belonged 
to Jackson's wing of the Democratic party, in the ranks of which 
a schism was appearing between the nullifiers and the men who 
were devoted to the Union. He was what would now be known 
as a " machine pohtician," but of the more honorable sort. His 
administration was a fairly able one. In the course of it one phase 
of the National Bank question reached a satisfactory solution in the 
so-called sub-treasury system, which after some vicissitudes, was 
finally established in 1846, and is still in force. By this system 
the public revenues are not deposited in any bank, but are paid 
over on demand to the treasury department by the collectors, 
who are required to give bonds for the proper discharge of their 
duty. The establishment of this system was creditable to Van 
Buren's administration, but the panic of 1837 caused so much dis- 
tress as to make many people wish for a change in the govern- 
ment. Turning to their own uses the same kind of popular senti- 
ment which had elected Jackson, the Whigs nominated again the 
plain soldier, Harrison, who had lived in a log cabin and had hard 
cider on his table. In the famous "hard-cider campaign" of 
1840, Harrison won a sweeping victory, getting 234 electoral votes 
to Van Buren's 60. The Whigs had a majority in both houses of 
Congress. But the managers of the party had made a mistake 
such as has since recurred in American politics. For Vice-Presi- 
dent, they had nominated a Democrat, John Tyler, of Virginia, in 
the hope of getting votes from those Democrats who were dissatis- 
fied with Jackson and Van Buren. Just one month after Harrison's 
inauguration he died, and Tyler became President. By this unex- 
pected event the Whigs lost the fruits of their victory. The Presi- 
dent was able, by his vetoes, to defeat their measures, and thus 



546 f/OlV THE UNITED STATES 

their attempts to undo the work of Jackson and Van Buren, i:^ 
regards the National Bank, ended in failure. 

Oregon and Texas. — Under Tylers administration, questions of 
foreign policy, involving chances of war, again came into the fore- 
ground ; but they were very different questions from those which 
had occupied our attention in the beginning of the century, and the 
mere statement of them gives a vivid impression of the enormous 
growth of the United States since the war of 1812. The northwest- 
ern corner of North America, down to the parallel of 54° 40', now 
known as the territory of Alaska, was then a kind of appendage to 
Silperia, and belonged to Russia. The region between Russian 
America and California, known as Oregon, was claimed by the 
United States, on the ground of the discoveries of Lewis and Clark. 
But Great Britain also had claims upon this region, and since 181 8 
it had been subject to the joint occupation of Great Britain and the 
United States. But by 1842 the American stream of westward 
migration, crossing the Rocky Mountains, had poured into Oregon, 
and it began to be a question how this vast territory should be 
divided. The Americans claimed everything, and the Democrats 
went into the next presidential campaign with the alliterative war- 
cry, '^ Fifty-four forty or fight " ; but popular interest in the question 
was not strong enough to sustain this bold policy. Great western 
statesmen, like Benton, appreciated the importance of Oregon 
much better than great eastern statesmen like Webster; but none 
were fully alive to its importance, and the southerners, represented 
by Calhoun, felt little interest in a territory which seemed quite 
unavailable for the making of slave states. Accordingly in 1846 
the matter was compromised with Great Britain, and the territory 
was divided at the forty-ninth parallel, all above that line being 
British, all below American. If the feeling of national solidarity 
in the United States had been nearly as strong as it is to-day, we 
should probably have insisted upon our claim to the whole ; in 
which case we should now, since our purchase of Alaska from 
Russia, possess the whole Pacific coast north of Mexico to Behr- 
ing's Strait. It is perhaps to be regretted that such a bold policy 
was not pursued in 1846. It had many chances of success, for 



BECAME A NATION. 547 

our available military strength, all things considered, was then 
probably not inferior to that of Great Britain. 

Very different was the popular feeling with regard to Texas. 
That magnificent country, greater in extent than any country of 
Europe except Russia, had been settled by emigrants from the 
United States, and in 1835 had rebelled against Mexican rule. In 
1836 the American General Houston had defeated the Mexican 
General Santa Anna in the decisive battle of San Jacinto, and won 
the independence of Texas. After this the slave-holders of the 
southern states wished to annex Texas to the Union. Lying south 
of the parallel of 36° 30', it might become a slave state, and it was 
hoped that it might hereafter be divided into several states, so as 
to maintain the weight of the southerners in the United States Sen- 
ate. After the admission of Arkansas in 1836, and Michigan to 
balance it in 1837, the South had no more room for expansion, 
unless it should acquire new territory ; whereas the North had still 
a vast space westward at its command. It seemed likely that the 
North would presently gain a steady majority in the Senate ; and 
in the House of Representatives, where strength depended on popu- 
lation, the North was constantly gaining, partly because the insti- 
tution of slavery prevented the South from sharing in the advan- 
tages of the emigration from Europe, and partly for other reasons 
connected with the inferiority of slave labor to free labor. It 
was, therefore, probable that before long the North would come 
to control the action of Congress, and might then try to abolish 
slavery. This was a natural dread on the part of the South, and 
the abolitionist agitation tended to strengthen and exasperate it. 
The only safeguard for the South seemed to be the acquisition of 
fresh territory, and thus the annexation of Texas came now to fur- 
nish the burning question in pohtics, and to array the northern 
and southern states against each other in a contest for supremacy 
which could only be settled by an appeal to arms. In the presi- 
dential election of 1844, the Democratic candidate was James 
K. Polk, of Tennessee, and the Whig candidate was Henry Clay ; 
and there was a third nomination, which determined the result of 
the election. The aboHtionists had put forward James Bimey as a 



548 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

presidential candidate in 1840, but had got very few votes; they 
now put him forward again. The contest was close. The suc- 
cess of the Whigs seemed probable, until the weakness of Clay's 
moral fibre ruined it, — a lesson for American poHticians, by which 
too few have had the good sense to profit. In the idle hope of 
catching Democratic votes, he published a letter favoring the an- 
nexation of Texas at some future time. This device met the fail- 
ure which ought to follow all such flimsy manoeuvres. It won no 
Democratic votes for Clay, but angered a great many anti-slavery 
V/higs, who threw away their votes upon Birney, and thus carried 
the state of New York over to Polk, and elected him President. 
It was the most closely contested election in our history, except 
those of 1800, 1876, and 1884. 

§ 4. The Slave Power. 

War with Mexico. — The Democratic party, thus reinstated, 
was quite different from the Democratic party which had elected 
Jackson and Van Buren. Its policy was now shaped mainly by 
the followers of Calhoun, the representatives of slavery and nullifi- 
cation, though the latter political heresy was not likely to assert 
itself, so long as they could control the Federal government. With 
the election of Polk, the North and South are finally arrayed in 
opposition to each other ; the question as to slavery comes to the 
front, and stays there until the Civil War. 

In 1845 Texas was admitted to the Union, with the understand- 
ing that it might hereafter be divided, so as to make several slave 
states. Mexico was offended, but no occasion for war arose until 
it was furnished by boundary troubles, due to that peculiar craving 
for territory which at this moment possessed the minds of the 
slave-holders. The boundary between Texas and Mexico was a 
.matter of dispute; and early in 1846, Mr. Polk ordered General 
Taylor to march in and take possession of the disputed territory. 
This action was resented by Mexico, and led to a war, which lasted 
nearly eighteen months. In the course of it California was con- 
quered by Fremont, New Mexico by Kearney, and the northern 



BECAME A NATION. 549 

portion of Mexico by Taylor ; while Scott, landing at Vera Cruz, 
advanced and captured the city of Mexico. The United States 
soldiers vanquished the Mexicans wherever they found them, and 
whatsoever the disparity of numbers. Thus at Buena Vista, Feb. 
2 2, 1847, Taylor routed a Mexican army outnumbering him more 
than four to one ; and some of the exploits of Doniphan in his 
march to Chihuahua, remind us of the Greeks at Cunaxa or Arbela. 
Many incidents of the war were quite romantic, and it is interesting 
to the student of history as having been the school in which most 
of the great generals of our Civil War were trained to their work. 
In February, 1848, a treaty was made, in which Mexico gave up to 
the United States a territory almost as extensive as that which 
Jefferson had obtained from Napoleon. It brought the map of 
the United States very nearly to what it is to-day, except for the 
acquisition of Alaska. 

Wilmot Proviso. — This immense acquisition of territory was a 
most fortunate event for everybody concerned in it ; but its imme- 
diate effect upon our politics was far more disturbing than any- 
thing which had occurred since 1820. The anti-slavery party 
looked upon the war with strong disfavor, and their sentiments 
found expression in the most remarkable political poems of mod- 
ern times, the first series of Biglow Papers by James Russell Low- 
ell. There was a renewal of the sectional strife which had been 
quieted for a time by the Missouri Compromise. Slavery had 
been prohibited in the new territory by Mexican law, and the 
North wished to have this prohibition kept in force, but the South 
would not consent. To some the simplest solution seemed to be 
to prolong the Missouri Compromise line from the Rocky Moun- 
tains to the Pacific, but neither party was willing to give up so 
much to the other. Opposition to slavery had greatly increased 
at the North since 1820, and this had naturally increased the 
obstinacy of the South, so that it was becoming difficult to make 
compromises. In 1846 David Wilmot, a Democratic member of 
Congress from Pennsylvania, laid down the principle upon which, 
though not adopted at the time, the North was destined finally 
to take its stand and march to victory. By the famous Wilmot 



550 HO IV THE UNITED STATES 

Proviso, slavery was to be forever prohibited in the whole of the 
territory acquired from Mexico. The proviso was not adopted in 
Congress, but in 1848 it called into existence the Free-Soil party, 
formed by the union of anti-slavery Democrats and Whigs with the 
abolitionists. This party nominated Martin Van Buren for Presi- 
dent, and Charles Francis Adams for Vice-President. The Demo- 
crats nominated Lewis Cass, of Michigan, and the Whigs nominated 
the military hero, Taylor ; and neither of these two parties dared 
in its platform to say a word about the one burning question of 
the day, — the question of slavery in the new territory. The Free- 
Soilers decided the election by drawing from the Democratic vote 
in New York, and so Taylor became President. Taylor was by far 
the ablest of the Presidents between Jackson and Lincoln ; he was 
brave, honest, and shrewd ; and though a Louisiana slave-owner, he 
was unflinching in his devotion to the Union. He received warm 
support from the great Missouri senator, Thomas Benton, the most 
eminent in ability of the Jacksonian Democrats. The political 
struggle during Taylor's administration related chiefly to the ad- 
mission of California as a state in the Union. 

California. — Hitherto the westward migration had gone on 
at a steady pace, filling up one area after another as it went along. 
In 1846 Iowa was admitted to the Union, the first free state west 
of the Mississippi ; in 1848 the admission of Wisconsin at last filled 
up the region east of that river ; and the two states served as a 
counterweight in the Senate to Florida and Texas. Now the 
immigration took a sudden leap to the Pacific coast. In 1848 
gold was discovered in California, and people rushed thither from 
all points of the compass, in quest of sudden riches. Within a year 
the population had become large enough to entitle it to admission 
to the Union, and there was need of a strong government to hold 
in check the numerous ruffians who had flocked in along with honest 
people. In 1849 the people of Cahfornia agreed upon a state 
constitution forbidding slavery, and applied for admission to the 
Union. The southern members of Congress hotly opposed this, 
and threats of secession began to be heard. The controversy 
went on for a year, until it was settled by a group of compromise 



BECAME A NATION. 551 

measures devised by Clay, who thirty years before had succeeded 
so well with his Missouri Compromise. It was now agreed that 
California should be admitted as a free state ; and in return for 
this concession the northern members consented to a very strin- 
gent law for the arrest, by United States officers, of fugitive slaves 
in the northern states. The region between California and Texas 
was to be organized into two territories, — Utah (including Nevada) 
and New Mexico (including Arizona) ; and the question whether 
slavery should be allowed in these territories was postponed. 
Before these measures had become law, Mr. Taylor, who, sup- 
ported by Benton, had taken strong ground against the threats of 
secession, suddenly died, and the Vice-President, Millard Fillmore, 
became President. Mr. Fillmore, like his two successors, belonged 
to the class of poHticians whom the southerners called " dough- 
faces," — men who were ready to make almost any concessions to 
the slave power, for the sake of avoiding strife. 

Effects of the Compromise. — Instead of bringing quiet, as the 
Missouri Compromise had done, the Compromise of 1850 was 
the prelude to more bitter and deadly strife. The cruelties at- 
tending the execution of the fugitive slave law aroused fierce 
indignation at the North, and presently produced a book which had 
an enormous sale, and was translated into almost all the literary 
languages of the world. "Uncle Tom's Cabin," by Mrs. Harriet 
Beecher Stowe, was a story written to show what negro slavery 
really was. The book was written in a wonderful spirit of fairness, 
rather understating than exaggerating the evils of slavery, and it 
carried all the more conviction for that reason. Its influence in 
strengthening the anti-slavery feeling at the North must have been 
incalculably great. Further service was done in the same direc- 
tion by the bold speeches and lectures of two famous Boston 
orators, the lawyer Wendell Phillips and the minister Theodore 
Parker. At the same time the political attitude of the extreme 
abolitionists \vas very unwise. Some of them called the Federal 
Constitution a "covenant with hell," because it permitted slavery; 
and seemed ready to see the Union broken up, rather than sub- 
mit to the demands of the South. Many anti-slavery Whigs, 



552 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

without going to such lengths, became disgusted with their 
party for approving the late compromises, and abstained from 
voting at the next election. The Whigs having triumphed in 
1848 with one of the two chief heroes of the Mexican War, now 
nominated the other. General Scott. The Democrats nominated 
Franklin Pierce, a northern "doughface"; and the Free-Soilers 
nominated John Hale, much the ablest of the three candidates. 
There were 254 electoral votes for Pierce and only 42 for Scott, 
and this crushing defeat put an end to the Whig party. Its 
two great leaders, Webster and Clay, had just been removed by 
death. They were succeeded by such men as Sumner, Seward, 
and Chase, declared enemies of slavery. Calhoun had also died, 
and a person of much smaller calibre, Jefferson Davis, succeeded 
him as leader of the slave-holders. 

Kansas-Nebraska Bill. — The slave power was now at its wit's 
end for new territory in which to extend itself. The stars in 
their courses had begun to fight against it. The admission of 
Cahfornia gave the North a preponderance in the Senate : the 
wonderful growth of the northwestern states, in which the influence 
of New England ideas was steadily increasing, was giving it a 
preponderance in the lower house ; and a time was likely to 
arrive when the South could no longer depend upon the aid of 
"doughface" presidents. It seemed necessary at once to get a 
new slave state to balance California, but the available land south 
of 36° 30' was all used up. West of Arkansas lay the Indian 
Territory, while it was a long way across Texas to New Mexico ; 
and on these lines the westward movement of white men was 
likely to advance too slowly. The impatience of the slave power 
vented itself but imperfectly in secret and illegal filibustering 
expeditions against Cuba and some of the states of Central 
America. It was hoped that Cuba might be conquered and an- 
nexed as a slave state ; but all these wild schemes failed, and Spain 
could not be persuaded to sell Cuba. A more practicable scheme 
seemed to be to get control of the territory lying west of Missouri 
and Iowa, and introduce slavery there. This land lay to the 
north of 36° 30', and was therefore forever to be free soil, ac- 



BECAME A NATION. 553 

cording to the terms of the Missouri Compromise. But with the 
aid of northern doughfaces the South might hope to obtain the 
repeal of that celebrated compact ; and now once more its wishes 
were gratified, so far as mere legislation could go ; but it soon 
became apparent that it was only sowing the wind to reap the 
whirlwind. The needed northern leader was found in Stephen 
Douglas, an Illinois Democrat, who hoped to become President. 
He maintained that the compromise of 1850, by leaving the 
slavery question undetermined in New Mexico and Utah, had 
virtually repealed the Missouri Compromise, and made it necessary 
to leave that question undetermined in the Kansas-Nebraska terri- 
tory. There was no strict logic in this doctrine ; for Kansas- 
Nebraska, being part of the Louisiana purchase, was covered by 
the Missouri Compromise, whereas New Mexico-Utah lay wholly 
outside the area contemplated in that agreement. But in the 
stress of political emergencies, it is apt to fare ill with strict logic. 
In 1854 the Kansas-Nebraska Bill was passed, reopening the 
slavery question in the lands west of Missouri and Iowa. This 
was substantially a repeal of the Missouri Compromise. It was a 
great and alarming concession to the slave power. Douglas and 
his followers intended it to ensure peace, but its immediate conse- 
quence was the great Civil War. 

For according to Douglas' doctrine, which was known as 
" squatter sovereignty," it was now to be left to the settlers in Kan- 
sas and Nebraska whether they would have slavery or not. It was a 
plausible doctrine, because it appealed to that strong love of local 
self-government which has always been one of the soundest political 
instincts of the American people. But its practical result was to 
create a furious rivalry between North and South, as to which 
should get settlers enough into Kansas to secure a majority of 
popular votes there. The issue, thus clearly defined, at once 
wrought a new division between political parties. In the autumn 
of 1854 all the northern men who were opposed to the extension 
of slavery, whatever their former party names might have been, 
combined together under the name of "Anti-Nebraska Men," and 
succeeded in electing a majority of the House of Representatives. 



554 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

Soon afterward they took the name of Repubhcans, and because 
of their alleged fondness for negroes, their scornful opponents 
called them " Black Republicans." 

The Struggle for Kansas. — The course of westward migration 
now became determined by political reasons. Anti-slavery societies 
subscribed money to hasten immigration into Kansas, while Mis- 
souri and Arkansas poured in a gang of border ruffians, to make 
life insecure for northern immigrants and deter them from coming. 
The plains of Kansas soon became the scene of wholesale robbery 
and murder. The preliminary phase of the Civil War had begun. 
A state of war existed in Kansas till 1858, when the tide of north- 
ern immigration had become so strong as to sweep away all obsta- 
cles and to decide that slavery should be forbidden there. Mean- 
while the debates in Congress had grown so fierce as to end in 
personal violence. In 1856 Charles Sumner made a speech which 
exasperated the slave-holders; and shortly afterward, Preston 
Brooks, a representative from South Carolina, sought out Sumner 
while he was writing at his desk in the senate-chamber, and 
beat him over the head with a stout cane until he had nearly 
killed him. An attempt was made to have Brooks expelled 
from Congress, but it failed of the requisite two-thirds vote. 
Brooks then resigned his seat and appealed to his constituents, 
who re-elected him to Congress by an almost unanimous vote, 
while many southern newspapers loudly applauded his conduct. 

Dred Scott. — In the presidential campaign of 1856, the Demo- 
crats nominated a northern doughface, James Buchanan, and 
endorsed the principle of squatter sovereignty ; the Republicans 
nominated the western explorer Fremont, and asserted the right 
and duty of Congress to prohibit slavery in the territories, thus 
planting themselves upon the ground of the Wilmot Proviso. A 
small remnant of doughface Whigs nominated Fillmore, and tried 
to turn attention away from the great question at issue, by protest- 
ing against the too hasty naturalization of foreign-born citizens. 
Buchanan obtained 174 electoral votes, Fremont 114, and Fillmore 
8. The large Republican vote showed that the northern people 
were at last awakening to the danger, and it astonished and alarmed 



BECAME A NATION. 555 

the South. The secessionist feeUng was dihgently encouraged by 
southern leaders who had poHtical ends to subserve by it. The 
slave power became more aggressive than ever. The renewal of 
the African slave trade, which had been forbidden since 1808, was 
demanded, and without waiting for the question to be settled, the 
infamous traffic was resumed on a considerable scale, and with 
scarcely any attempt at concealment. In the summer and autumn 
of 1857, the English fleet which watched the African coast, charged 
with the duty of suppressing the slave trade, captured twenty- two 
vessels engaged in this business, and all but one of these were 
American. By i860 the trade had assumed large proportions, 
and was openly advertised in the southern newspapers. Not sat- 
isfied with this, the slave-holders strove to enlist the power of the 
Federal government in actively protecting their baneful institution. 
The principle of squatter sovereignty had not served their purpose, 
for they could not compete with the North in sending settlers to 
Kansas, and in the struggle there they were already getting worsted. 
They accordingly threw squatter sovereignty to the winds, and 
demanded that the Federal government should protect slavery in 
all the territories. The question was brought to the test in a case 
which was decided in the Supreme Court in 1857. Dred Scott, a 
slave who had been taken by his owner from Missouri into free 
territory, brought suit to obtain his freedom. Of the nine judges 
of the Supreme Court, five were slave-holders, and some of the 
others were doughfaces. When the case was at last brought before 
them, it was decided that, according to the Constitution, slaves 
were not persons but property, and that slave-owners could migrate 
from one part of the Union to another and take their negroes with 
them, just as they could take their horses and cows, or the bank- 
notes in their waistcoat pockets. Two of the judges, Benjamin 
Curtis, of Massachusetts, and John McLean, of Ohio, delivered 
dissenting opinions. 

The Crisis. — The revival of the African slave trade attracted 
little notice at the time, in comparison with the Dred Scott deci- 
sion. The effect of the two, taken together, would have been to 
drown the whole Union in a deluge of barbarism, to blight the 



556 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

growth of the American people both materially and morally, and 
to make us a nuisance in the eyes of the civilized world. The 
northern people refused to accept the verdict of the Supreme 
Court, and the northern Democrats, led by Douglas, became 
unwiUing to co-operate any longer with the Democrats of the 
South. Some of them drifted into the Republican party, others 
tried to maintain the already effete principle of squatter sovereignty ; 
but nearly all were driven to the unwelcome conclusion that the 
day of compromises was gone. Thus North and South were at 
last definitely arrayed against each other, and the air was full of 
dismal forebodings of war. In the autumn of 1859 a blow was 
struck, shght enough in itself, but prophetic of the coming storm. 
John Brown, a Connecticut man of the old Puritan type, had been 
an anti-slavery leader in the Kansas fights. Now with fanatical 
fervor he made up his mind to inaugurate a crusade against the 
slave power. With a handful of followers he attacked the arsenal 
at Harper's Ferry, in the hope of getting arms and setting up in 
the wild mountains of that neighborhood an asylum for fugitive 
slaves. He was, of course, captured and put to death, but his 
daring act sounded the key-note of the approaching conflict. For 
that very reason he got at the moment but little sympathy in the 
North, where the Repubhcan majority, content with the moderate 
policy of excluding- slavery from the territories, were very unwilling 
to be considered allies of the extreme abohtionists, whom they 
regarded as disturbers of the peace. 

In the presidential election of i860 there were four candidates. 
The southern Democrats had separated from the northern Demo- 
crats, the Whig doughfaces were not yet extinct, and the Republi- 
cans were daily waxing in strength. The Republicans nominated 
Abraham Lincoln, of Illinois, and declared that the Federal gov- 
ernment must forbid slavery in the territories. The southern 
Democrats nominated John Breckenridge, of Kentucky, and de- 
clared that the Federal government must protect slavery in the 
territories. These two parties had the courage of their convic- 
tion ; the others shuffled, but in different ways. 

The northern Democrats, in nominating Douglas, took their 



BECAME A NATION. S^l 

Stand upon a principle, though it was one that had already 
been proved inadequate ; they left the question of slavery in 
each territory to be decided by the people who should settle 
in the territory; but in order to catch southern votes, they 
made a concession similar to that which Clay had made in 1844, 
and vaguely announced themselves as willing to submit to the 
decision of the Supreme Court. This weakness, in presence of 
the Dred Scott verdict, gained them no votes at the South, where 
they could not outbid Breckenridge, and it lost them many votes 
at the North. 

The still surviving remnant of doughface Whigs nominated John 
Bell, of Tennessee, and declared themselves in favor of '^ the Con- 
stitution, the Union, and the enforcement of the laws," — a phrase 
which might mean almost anything. These good people were so 
afraid of war, that they would fain keep the peace by shutting their 
eyes and persuading themselves that the terrible slavery question 
did not really exist, and that all would go well if men would only 
be good and kind to one another. 

In the electoral college Lincoln obtained 180 votes, Brecken- 
ridge 72, Bell 39, and Douglas 12. The popular vote for Douglas 
was very large, but it was not so distributed as to gain a majority 
in any state except Missouri ; beside the nine electoral votes of 
that state he obtained three in New Jersey. The result of the 
election was a decisive victory for the Republicans. Its signifi- 
cance was far-reaching. It not only meant the overthrow of the 
Dred Scott doctrine and the squatter sovereignty doctrine, but it 
even went back of the Missouri Compromise doctrine, and put an 
immediate stop to the extension of slavery into the territories. It 
said not a word about the abolition of slavery in states where it 
already existed, but it meant that hereafter free labor was to have 
enormous room for expansion, while slave labor was to have none. 

§ 5. The Civil War. 

The North and the South in 1860. — The year of Lincoln's 
election was the census year in which the population of the United 
States first showed itself greater than that of its mother country. 



558 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

In 1776 the population of Great Britain and Ireland was about 
8,000,000, and that of the United States about 3,000,000. In 
i860 the population of Great Britain and Ireland was about 
29,000,000, and that of the United States was over 31,000,000. 
The agricultural products of the United States far surpassed in 
volume those of any other country, and in merchant-shipping we 
were second only to Great Britain, — a fact curious and sad to con- 
template now, when our idiotic navigation laws have succeeded in 
nearly destroying our merchant marine. Between 1830 and i860 
the growth of American civilization had been prodigious in all 
directions, — in facilities of travel and exchange, in home com- 
forts, in manufactures, in literature and art ; and, above all, in that 
awakening of moral sense which enabled us to pass unscathed 
through the terrible ordeal of the next four years. 

In all this material and moral progress the South had by far the 
smaller share ; not because of any natural inferiority in the people, 
but simply because of the curse of slavery, which blighted every- 
thing within its reach. Where labor was held in disrespect, as the 
mark of an inferior caste, immigration would not come ; railroads, 
commerce and manufactures would not thrive ^ ideas from other 
parts of the modern world were not kindly received ; and the ad- 
vance of civilization was accordingly checked. In i860, besides 
their 4,000,000 negro slaves, the seceding states had a white popula- 
tion of about 4,000,000, with which to contend against 23,000,000 
at the North ; and this enormous disparity was further increased 
by the still greater superiority of the North in material resources. 
The struggle of the South for four years against such odds showed 
of what heroic stuff its people were made ; but they had also one 
great military advantage which went far toward neutralizing these 
odds. To win their independence it was not necessary for them 
to conquer the North or any part of it, but only to defend their 
own frontier ; whereas, on the contrary, for the North to succeed, 
it was necessary for its armies to effect a military occupation of 
the whole vast southern country, and this was in some respects a 
greater military task than had ever been undertaken by any civi- 
lized government. 



BECAME A NATION. r^;^ 559 

In planning secession the southern leaders realized how great 
this military advantage was, and they counted upon three other 
advantages, which, however, they failed to obtain. If they could 
have won these three other advantages, they might have succeeded 
in establishing their independence. First, they expected that all 
the slave states would join in the secession movement, which was 
far from being the case. Secondly, they hoped that northern 
Democrats would offer such opposition to the Republican admin- 
istration as to paralyze its action. In this they were sadly dis- 
appointed. As soon as it came to war, the great majority of 
northern Democrats loyally supported the government ; and the 
party of obstructionists, known as " Peace Democrats," and nick- 
named " Copperheads," was too small to do much harm. Thirdly, 
the southern leaders hoped to get aid from England and France. 
They believed that the English manufactories were so dependent 
upon their cotton that the English government would not allow 
their coast to be blockaded. " Cotton is king," they said. Then 
the French emperor, Napoleon III., had designs upon Mexico 
that were incompatible with the Monroe doctrine, and he would be 
glad to see the power of the United States divided. In these 
hopes, too, they were disappointed. Napoleon was desirous of 
recognizing the independence of the South, but unwilling to take 
such a step, save in concert with England, and he was unable to 
persuade England. In the latter country there was much differ- 
ence of sentiment, the working people mainly sympathizing with 
the North, and fashionable society with the South ; but in spite of 
great suffering from scarcity of cotton, the government could not, 
without glaring inconsistency, while suppressing the African slave 
trade with one hand, lend support to the principal slave power on 
earth with the other. The most it could do was to wink at the 
departure of a few blockade-runners and privateers from British 
ports. 

Fort Sumter and Bull Run. — As soon as the election of i860 
showed that the slave power could no longer control the policy of 
the Federal Union, the state of South Carolina called a convention, 
which on the 20th December passed its ordinance of secession. 



560 • HOW THE UNITED STATES 

Other states, in which the secessionist party was not quite so 
strong, now thought it necessary to stand by South Carohna, and 
in the course of January, 1861, Georgia, Alabama, Florida, Mis- 
sissippi, Louisiana, and Texas passed ordinances of secession. The 
other slave states still held aloof, political opinions being much 
divided. In general their people disapproved of secession, but 
did not recognize the right of the Federal government to defend 
itself by making war against the rebellion in a seceding state. 
This doctrine found expression in the annual message of President 
Buchanan, and his feeble attitude encouraged the seceders to 
believe that by a brave show of force they might succeed in 
effecting their purpose without war. In February, 1861, delegates 
from the seven seceding states met at Montgomery in Alabama, 
organized a government known as the " Confederate States of 
America," adopted a constitution, and chose Jefferson Davis for 
President, and Alexander Stephens, of Georgia, for Vice-President. 
Their term of office was to be six years. Many United States forts 
and arsenals were seized, but a few, and more particularly Fort 
Sumter, in Charleston harbor, held out. The South Carolinians 
prepared to attack Fort Sumter, and succeeded in preventing 
Buchanan's government from sending supplies thither. When Mr. 
Lincoln succeeded to office, he sent a fleet to aid Fort Sumter ; 
and as soon as the South Carolinians heard of this, they fired upon 
the fortress and captured it without bloodshed. This event aroused 
fierce excitement throughout the North, for it showed people what 
they had hitherto been extremely unwilling to believe, — that the 
South was ready to fight, and could not be curbed without war. 
April 15, two days after the fall of Fort Sumter, the President 
called for 75,000 troops to put down the rebellion, and the response 
was so hearty that within two months 200,000 men were under arms. 
The first blood was shed on the 19th, the anniversary of the battle 
of Lexington, when a Massachusetts regiment, hurrying to the de- 
fence of the Federal capital, was fired upon by a mob in Baltimore. 
Many people in the border states were enraged by Mr. Lin- 
coln's call for troops. The governors of Arkansas, Tennessee, 
North Carolina and Virginia, refused to obey, and those states 



BECAME A NATIOM, 561 

seceded from the Union and joined the Confederacy, but not with 
their full force. The people of the Alleghany mountains were 
loyal to the Union ; in eastern Tennessee they aided the Federals 
as far as possible ; in Virginia they seceded from their own state, 
and formed a new government, known as the state of West Vir- 
ginia, which was afterward admitted into the Union. Even thus 
curtailed, the accession of Virginia to the Confederacy increased 
its military strength enormously. Its capital was at once removed 
from Montgomery up to Richmond, and it became much easier to 
threaten Washington, or to invade the North. Virginia was, besides, 
the greatest and richest of the slave states, and furnished the 
southern army with its ablest leaders, many of whom — such as 
Lee, Johnston, Jackson, and Ewell — were opposed to secession, 
but thought it right to govern their own course by that of their 
state. 

Immense consequences now hung upon the action of the other 
three border states. Missouri was the most powerful slave state, 
except Virginia, and the geographical position of Missouri, Ken- 
tucky, and Maryland, was of incalculable military importance. If 
these three states had joined the Confederacy, they might have 
turned the scale in its favor. Maryland remained firm, through 
the steadfast loyalty of her governor and the presence of Federal 
troops. In Kentucky and Missouri, where the governments were 
disloyal, the situation soon became stonny and doubtful. 

The first campaign east of the Mississippi was in West Virginia, 
from which the Confederate troops were driven in July by General 
McClellan. At the same time popular impatience prevailed upon 
General Scott to allow a premature and imprudent advance toward 
Richmond. On July 2 1 General McDowell had nearly accom- 
plished the defeat of General Beauregard in a severe battle at Bull 
Run, when General Joseph Johnston arrived on the scene with fresh 
troops, and the Federal troops were put to flight. Until Johnston's 
arrival the forces were about equally matched in numbers. Some 
5,000 men were killed and wounded, so that it was the bloodiest 
batde that had yet been fought in America by white men ; but its 
only military significance was that it made the South over-confi- 



562 HOJV THE UNITED STATES 

dent, while it nerved the North to greater efforts. Until the fol- 
lowing spring, there were no important operations in the East, 
except that Port Royal and a few other places on the coast were 
captured, and held as convenient stations for the blockading fleet. 
The blockade was soon made effective along the whole length of 
the southern coast from the Potomac to the Rio Grande, an 
achievement which most people had thought impossible. The 
command of the Army of the Potomac was given to McClellan 
immediately after Bull Run, and in November he succeeded Scott 
as commander-in-chief of the Federal armies. He showed great 
skill in organizing the army, which, under his training, became an 
excellent instrument of warfare. 

Affair of the Trent. — Toward the end of the year we came 
near getting into serious trouble with Great Britain. Two southern 
gentlemen, Mason and Slidell, were sent out by the Confederacy 
as commissioners to England and France, to seek aid from those 
powers. They ran the blockade, and at Havana took passage for 
England in the Trent, a British steamer. Some distance out, the 
Trent was overhauled by an American war-vessel under Captain 
Wilkes, and the two Confederate agents were taken out and carried 
to Boston harbor, where they were imprisoned in Fort Warren. 
This was an exercise of the right of search which the United States 
government had always condemned, and to put an end to which it 
had gone to war with Great Britain in 1812. The right had been 
relinquished by Great Britain in 1856. It was impossible for the 
United States to uphold the act of Captain Wilkes without desert- 
ing the principles which it had always maintained. Mr. Lincoln 
therefore promptly disavowed the act and surrendered the prison- 
ers, although such a course was made needlessly difficult for him 
by the blustering behavior of the British government, which had 
immediately begun to threaten war and get troops ready to send 
to Canada. 

Successes in the West. — In Missouri the secessionist party was 
very strong, and controlled the state government ; but it was com- 
pletely defeated by the boldness and sagacity of Francis Blair and 
Nathaniel Lyon, who in May and June, t86i, overturned the gov- 



BECAME A NATION. 563 

ernment and set up a loyal one in its place. The- prompt action 
of these two men saved Missouri to the Union. After a brief 
career of victory, Lyon was defeated and killed, August lo, in a 
severe battle at Wilson's Creek. The Confederates gained little 
from their slight success and their hold grew weaker, until in 
March, 1862, they were thoroughly and decisively defeated at Pea 
Ridge, in Arkansas, by General Curtis. 

Meanwhile in Kentucky the state government had begun by 
trying to maintain an impossible attitude of neutrality, but the 
Union sentiment grew stronger and stronger, until in September 
the Confederate general, Polk, invaded Kentucky and occupied the 
bluffs at Columbus, blocking the descent of the Mississippi river. 
Kentucky now declared for the Union, and General Grant entered 
the state from Illinois and anticipated Polk in securing the mouths 
of the Tennessee and Cumberland rivers, two great streams which 
were to serve as military highways by which the Union armies were 
to penetrate into the heart of the Confederacy. This was for Grant 
the beginning of a long and successful, though fiercely contested 
advance. The Confederates had set up a defensive line from 
Columbus on the Mississippi river to Cumberland Gap in the 
Alleghanies, and placed in command of it Sidney Johnston, an 
officer of high reputation. His head-quarters were at Bowling 
Green, and he was confronted by a Federal army under General 
Buell. This was the middle one of the three great Federal armies, 
and came to be known as the army of the Cumberland. The 
centre of the Confederate line was at Forts Henry and Donelson, 
strongholds intended to bar the ascent of the two great rivers. This 
centre was confronted by Grant, with troops which presently 
formed the western one of the three great Federal armies, and was 
known as the army of the Tennessee. The right of the Confeder- 
ate line was at Millspring, and in January it was thoroughly de- 
feated by the extreme left division of Buell's army, under General 
Thomas. In February, aided by the river fleet. Grant captured 
Fort Henry and Fort Donelson, taking 15,000 prisoners, and 
breaking through the centre of the Confederate line. Johnston 
and Polk were now oblisred to retreat for fear of being cut off. 



564 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

Kentucky was secured to the Union, and the greater part of 
Tennessee recovered. Andrew Johnson was appointed mihtary 
governor of the state. 

The Confederates set up their second defensive hne along the 
railroad from Memphis to Chattanooga, and began massing their 
forces on this line at Corinth. The armies of Grant and 
Buell advanced to attack them there. Both these armies were 
now moving under the directions of General Halleck, who was 
intending to come from St. Louis and take command in the field. 
Before he arrived there was a great battle. Grant was at Pitts- 
burg Landing on the west bank of the Tennessee river, about 
twenty miles from Corinth, awaiting the arrival of Buell's army. 
Johnston moved to attack and crush him there before the junction 
of the armies could be effected. There ensued on April 6 and 7 
the battle of Shiloh, in which nearly 100,000 men were engaged, 
and lost one-fourth of their number in killed and wounded. John- 
ston, who was one of the slain, came near effecting his purpose, 
but Grant's resistance was stubborn, and at the close of the first 
day three divisions of Buell's army came upon the scene, so that 
next day the Confederates were defeated. This battle decided 
the fate of Corinth, which, however, did not fall for several 
weeks, because the incapable Halleck now took command of 
the Federals. 

While these things were going on, the Federal fleet under Far- 
ragut captured New Orleans and laid open the Mississippi river up 
to Vicksburg ; and the river fleet, at first with the aid of a small 
army under Pope, captured Island No. 10, and then annihilated 
the Confederate river fleet at Memphis. The fall of that city and of 
Corinth broke down the second Confederate line of defence, and 
laid open Vicksburg on the one hand and Chattanooga on the 
other, to the attack of the Federals. Thus the first year of active 
warfare in the West, from June, 1 861, to June, 1862, was an almost 
unbroken career of victory for the Federal armies. To complete 
the conquest of the Mississippi, it was necessary to take Vicksburg, 
with its outpost. Port Hudson, which between them commanded 
the mouth of the Red river, and thus kept open the communica- 



BECAME A NATION. 565 

tions of the eastern part of the Confederacy with its states of 
Texas, Louisiana and Arkansas. To take Vicksburg would lop off 
these states and inflict an irreparable damage upon the fighting 
power of the Confederacy. While this object was so important, 
it was scarcely less important for the Federals to hold Chattanooga, 
and thus open the way into Georgia, while preventing the Con- 
federates from recovering any of the lost ground in Tennessee. 
But Halleck was unequal to the situation ; and while he failed to 
seize Vicksburg, which the Confederates soon made one of the 
most formidable strongholds in the world, he also failed to seize 
Chattanooga. 

Merrimac and Monitor. — The great river fights at New Orleans 
and Memphis showed that one of the Confederacy's chief sources 
of weakness lay in its naval inferiority. But before these fights it 
had seemed for a moment as if it might be going to become for- 
midable on the water, after all. The Confederates took the 
United States frigate Mer?'wiac at Norfolk Navy Yard, and trans- 
formed her into an ironclad ram, with sloping sides and huge iron 
beak. The United States had in Hampton Roads a fleet of five 
of the finest wooden war-ships in the world. On the 8th of March, 
1862, this fleet was wretchedly defeated by the Merrimac. Their 
shot bounded harmlessly from her sides, while she sank one of the 
ships with her beak, and might very likely have sunk them all, had 
not darkness stopped the fight. But John Ericsson, the inventor 
of the screw propeller, had lately completed his invention of the 
turret ship ; and a few hours after the Merrifuac's victory, the first 
vessel of this class, the famous Monitor, appeared in Hampton 
Roads. Next day she had an obstinate fight with the Merrifnac, 
and compelled her to retire from the scene though she could not 
destroy her. The immediate effect of this naval battle was to 
render antiquated all the most recently built ships then existing in 
all the navies of the world. The naval superiority of the North 
was no more interrupted, and Federal fleets, supported by small 
armies, went on seizing the chief harbors on the southern coast, 
until by the end of the war they possessed them all. 

McClellan in Virginia. — The eastern campaigns were not so 



566 HO IV THE UNITED STATES 

successful as the western, partly because the Confederate generals 
were much abler, as compared with their antagonists ; pardy because 
military affairs were too much mixed up with politics. In advanc- 
ing upon Richmond, McClellan thought it wisest to start by sea 
and proceed up the bank of the James river ; but the government 
wished him to march directly across Virginia, in order to keep his 
army always interposed between the enemy and Washington. 
McClellan's objection to this course was that the nature of the 
country offered the enemy a series of immensely strong defensive 
lines, which could be carried only at a terrible cost of life. He 
'was at length allowed to follow the James river route, but his plan 
was hampered in a way that ruined it without protecting Washing- 
ton. Part of his army, under McDowell, was sent by the direct 
route to Fredericksburg, and in order to keep his right wing within 
co-operating distance of it, he was obliged to move, not close by 
the James river, but by the Chickahominy, with his base of 
supphes on the York river. Small Union forces, under Banks and 
Fremont, were also kept in and about the Shenandoah valley. 
These arrangements were liable to prove very disastrous, if turned 
to account by skilful adversaries. McClellan justly complained 
that his plans were so interfered with as never to have left him a 
fair chance. At the same time he seems to have been very far 
indeed from making the best use of the opportunities within his 
reach. At first the Confederates kept him a month besieging York- 
town, which they then abandoned, and retired into the neighborhood 
of Richmond. In advancing, the need for keeping his right wing 
thrown out toward McDowell, brought McClellan into an awkward 
position astride of the Chickahominy river, which by a sudden rise 
nearly severed the two halves of the army. At the end of May the 
Confederates pounced upon one-half at Fair Oaks, and in a hard- 
fought battle it barely saved itself. Joseph Johnston was here 
wounded, and his place was taken by Robert Lee, whose first 
move was to send the famous "Stonewall" Jackson to the Shen- 
andoah valley. Jackson easily defeated the forces there, and 
created such a panic in Washington that McDowell's force was 
withdrawn for the defence of the capital. McClellan now decided 



BECAME A NATION. 567 

to change his base from the York river to the James, and thus 
secure a much better position. But before he had effected the 
change, Jackson had returned from the Shenandoah, and the 
united Confederate army hurled itself upon McClellan, in the 
hope of crushing him while making the change. After seven days 
of hard fighting, June 26 to July i, with a loss of 15,000 men on 
each side, Lee was driven off, and McClellan reached the James 
river, in a position where he was more dangerous to Richmond 
than before. 

Meanwhile the scattered forces between Washington and Rich- 
mond were put in command of John Pope, against whom Lee 
presently sent Jackson. Now Halleck, who had been brought to 
Washington and made commander-in-chief, stupidly played into 
the enemy's hands by removing McClellan's army from the vicin- 
ity of Richmond, and bringing it around by sea to unite with Pope. 
Lee's hands being left quite free by this clumsy movement, he 
forthwith joined Jackson and inflicted an ignominious defeat upon 
Pope at Bull Run, Aug. 29. The capital was threatened; the 
country wild with excitement. To screen Pope, charges of mis- 
conduct and disobedience were brought against one of his ablest 
officers, Fitz John Porter, who was found guilty and dismissed from 
the army. The charges were afterward proved to have been ground- 
less, and after a quarter of a century, in spite of the shameful resis- 
tance of political partisans. General Porter was restored to his rank 
in the army. 

After the overthrow of Pope, the Confederates pushed on into 
Maryland, and McClellan again commanded the Federals. At 
Antietam, on the 1 7th September, a great battle was fought between 
40,000 Confederates under Lee and 60,000 Federals under McClel- 
lan, who had about 25,000 more troops unused. Each side lost 
about 12,500 men, and at the end the advantage was slightly with 
the Federals. Lee retreated slowly into Virginia, followed by 
McClellan, who was blamed for not accomplishing more. Early 
in November he was superseded by Burnside, who accomplished 
still less. 

Western Campaigns. — In June, 1862, the great Union force at 



568 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

Corinth was divided, Biiell's army marching eastward to seize 
Chattanooga, while Grant's remained about Corinth till it should 
be ready to start for Vicksburg. The campaign was so badly 
managed by Halleck that the Confederates, under Bragg, seized 
Chattanooga before Buell's arrival, and were thus enabled to bring 
such pressure to bear in that direction that heavy reinforcements 
had to be sent from Grant to Buell. Thus weakened. Grant was 
unable to advance for several months. Meanwhile Bragg took 
advantage of his superior position to strike across Tennessee and 
invade Kentucky, in two columns, one directed against Buell's base 
at Louisville, the other moving through Cumberland Gap toward 
Cincinnati. This bold movement, occurring simultaneously with 
Lee's invasion of Maryland, served to alarm the North, but the 
Confederates failed to recover any of the ground they had lost. 
Buell's movements were made with great skill, and, after a bloody 
and indecisive battle between parts of the armies at Perryville, 
Oct. 8, Bragg retreated through Cumberland Gap and made his 
way back to Chattanooga. 

While these things were going on, the Confederate army in 
Mississippi, under Van Dorn, made a desperate attempt to turn 
Grant's left wing at Corinth, so as to force him back down the 
Tennessee river. That wing was commanded by Rosecrans, who 
defeated the Confederates at luka, Sept. 19, and Corinth, Oct. 3 and 
4, and foiled their scheme. Soon after this Rosecrans superseded 
Buell in the command of the army of the Cumberland. Bragg 
had advanced to Murfreesborough, and at Stone River, near that 
town, a battle occurred, Dec. 31 to Jan. 2, in which 40,000 men 
were engaged on each side, and each lost more than 10,000. 
Bragg was obliged to retreat to Tullahoma ; but the battle decided 
nothing, except that it is very hard for Americans to defeat Ameri- 
cans, — a point that was fully illustrated in the course of this 
war. By this time Grant had begun his first movement against 
Vicksburg, and met with his first repulse ; his communications 
were cut in his rear, and his ablest lieutenant, Sherman, was 
defeated Dec. 29, in an assault upon the bluffs north of the town. 

Emancipation of the Slaves. — Since the South had brought on 



BECAME A NATION. 569 

this war in defence of slavery, the aboHtionist sentiment had grown 
very rapidly at the North, and it had now become supported by 
the mihtary needs of the hour. The summer's events had shown 
that the war was not likely soon to be ended ; and there was some 
fear, lest England, through distress from the scarcity of cotton, 
should join with France in an attempt to bring it prematurely to a 
close. It was also the clear dictate of common sense, that in 
waging such a terrible and costly war, the earliest opportunity 
should be taken of striking at the cause of the war ; otherwise 
victory, even when won, could not be final, but the seeds of future 
disease would be left in the body politic. The part which Mr. 
Lincoln played at this crisis was that of a bold and far-sighted 
statesman, and entitles him to rank by the side of Washington in 
the grateful memories of the American people. The Constitution 
gave him no authority to abolish slavery, but there was a broad 
principle of military law that did. In 1836 John Quincy Adams 
had declared in Congress that, if ever the slave states should 
become the theatre of war, the government might interfere with 
slavery in any way that military policy might suggest. Again, in 
his speech of April 14, 1842, he said, in words of prophetic clear- 
ness, " Whether the war be civil, servile, or foreign, I lay this down 
as the law of nations : I say that the military authority takes for 
the time the place of all municipal institutions, slavery among the 
rest. Under that state of things, so far from its being true that the 
states where slavery exists have the exclusive management of the 
subject, not only the President of the United States, but the com- 
mander of the army, has power to order the universal emancipation 
of slaves." It was upon this theory that Mr. Lincoln acted. In 
announcing it, he seized the favorable moment when the tide of 
southern invasion had begun to roll back from Maryland and Ken- 
tucky, and on Sept. 22, 1862, issued a prehminary proclamation, 
to the effect that on the following New Year's Day, in all such 
states as had not by that time returned to their allegiance, the 
slaves should be henceforth and forever free. This did not affect 
the slaves in the loyal border states, who were left to be set free 
by other measures ; but it practically settled the question that the 



570 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

re-establishment of the authority of the United States government 
would be attended by the final abolition of slavery. For a moment 
it seemed as if the proclamation had weakened the Republican 
vote, but it really added incalculable strength to the administration ; 
and as for foreign intervention, it made it almost impossible, owing 
to Great Britain's attitude toward slavery. 

The Great Crisis of the War. — The first half of the year 1863 
was a gloomy time, for it was not enough that the Federal govern- 
ment should hold its own : it must make progress, and no progress 
seemed to be made. Grant found himself baffled all winter by 
the almost insoluble problem how to invest Vicksburg. In May, 
in one of the most brilliant campaigns recorded in history, he won 
five battles and laid close siege to that stronghold ; but the full 
measure of his success was not yet reached, and the people were 
disheartened by defeat in other quarters. In middle Tennessee, 
Bragg and Rosecrans held each other in check till the middle of 
June. In Virginia, the incompetent Burnside had been terribly 
defeated by Lee at Fredericksburg, Dec. 13, with a loss of 
more than 12,000 men. He was superseded by Joseph Hooker, 
from whose admirable conduct in subordinate positions great, 
hopes were now entertained. But at Chancellorsville, May i to 4, 
Lee won the most brilliant of all his victories. With 45,060 men, 
against Hooker's 90,000, he succeeded in maintaining a superiority 
of numbers at each contested point, until he forced his adversary 
from the field. Lee's loss was 12,000; Hooker's was 16,000; but 
the Confederates also lost ^^ Stonewall" Jackson, a disaster so 
great as to balance the victory. 

Lee now played a grand but desperate game, and turning 
Hooker's right flank, pushed on through the western part of 
Maryland into Pennsylvania, so as to threaten Philadelphia, Balti- 
more, and Washington. There was intense alarm at the North. 
The army of the Potomac was moved northward to cover the 
cities just mentioned, and Hooker was superseded in the command 
by Meade. The two armies came into collision at Gettysburg, 
where in a tremendous batde, July i to 3, Meade at length succeeded 
in defeating Lee. About 82,000 Federals and 74,000 Confeder- 



BECAME A NATION. 571 

ates were engaged ; the loss of the former was 24,000 ; of the 
latter, 30,000. That is, out of 156,000 men, the loss was 54,000, 
or more than one-third ; so that the battle of Gettysburg was one 
of the greatest of modern times. It marked the turning-point of 
the Civil War, but it was not in itself a decisive victory, like Blen- 
heim or Waterloo. Lee moved slowly back to his old position on 
the Rapidan, where he and Meade held each other in check until 
the following spring. 

On the next day after Gettysburg, a much more decisive triumph 
was won by Grant in the capture of Vicksburg with its whole army 
of defence, nearly 32,000 strong. This was the heaviest blow that 
had yet been dealt to the Confederacy ; its whole western zone 
was now virtually conquered, and it became possible to concen- 
trate greater forces against its middle and eastern zones. The 
news of Gettysburg and Vicksburg made the 4th of July, 1863, a 
day of rejoicing at the North, albeit of mourning in thousands of 
bereaved homes. The next note of victory was sounded on 
Thanksgiving Day. 

Chattanooga. — Late in June Rosecrans began a series of skilful 
movements against Bragg, which caused him to fall back into 
Chattanooga. Early in September, by moving against his com- 
munications, Rosecrans forced him to evacuate that place ; but in 
manoeuvring among the mountains the Union general suddenly 
discovered that he had misinterpreted his adversary's movements 
and thus had dangerously extended his own lines. While there- 
upon engaged in concentrating his forces upon Chattanooga, he 
was attacked by Bragg, who had meanwhile been heavily reinforced 
from Virginia. A terrible battle was fought Sept. 19 and 20, 
in Chickamauga valley, between 55,000 Federals and 70,000 Con- 
federates, in which each side lost one- third of its number. After 
an extraordinary series of mishaps had led to the total rout of the 
Federal right wing, the army was saved by the magnificent skill 
and bravery of Thomas, who commanded on the left. Rosecrans 
occupied Chattanooga, but in such plight that he seemed in 
danger of losing it and his army also. He was besieged by Bragg, 
who occupied the strong positions of Lookout Mountain and Mis- 



572 //OJV THE UNITED STATES 

sionary Ridge, commanding the town. In October Rosecrans was 
superseded by Thomas, and Grant was put in command of all the 
armies between the Mississippi and the Alleghanies. Reinforce- 
ments under Hooker were sent from Virginia, and Sherman came 
up from Vicksburg with a large part of the army of Tennessee. 
In the brilliant battle of Chattanooga, Nov. 24 and 25, the 
Confederates were totally defeated, and Grant won another prize 
of scarcely less value than Vicksburg. The area of the Confeder- 
acy was now virtually cut down to the four states of Georgia, the 
Carolinas, and Virginia. 

Combined Operations Under Grant. — In March, 1864, Grant 
superseded Halleck as commander-in-chief, with the rank of 
lieutenant-general. Grant now gave his personal supervision to 
the army of the Potomac, while retaining Meade in immediate com- 
mand. After the battle of Chattanooga, the defeated Confederates 
had retired to Dalton, in Georgia, where Bragg was superseded by 
Johnston. The Union army opposed to Johnston was commanded 
by Sherman, and early in May a simultaneous forward movement 
was begun in Georgia and in Virginia. 

Grant had won his great victories at Vicksburg and Chattanooga, 
not by hard pounding so much as by skilful strategy. Twice at 
Vicksburg he had tried the hammering process without success. 
In Virginia, having an immense superiority in numbers (122,000 
against 62,000), he at first tried to crush Lee by simple hammer- 
ing. In pursuing the direct route through Fredericksburg to 
Richmond, he encountered a series of strong defensive positions 
of which Lee availed himself with consummate skill. In assault- 
ing these positions, Grant generally failed ; but his superiority in 
numbers enabled him to operate against Lee's right flank, and 
slowly push him back to the Chickahominy. After a month of 
this terrible warfare, including the battles of the Wilderness, Spott- 
sylvania, and Cold Harbor, Grant had lost 64,000 men, or more 
than the whole army with which Lee started. Having now 
reached the Chickahominy, and finding it impossible to break 
through Lee's lines of defence, Grant changed his plan of cam- 
paign and swung round upon Petersburg, to operate against the 



BECAME A NATION. 573 

southern communications of Richmond. Here Lee succeeded ia 
holding him at bay for nine months, with forces constantly weak- 
ening. Grant's losses could be repaired, but Lee's could not. 

The North, indeed, was still rich and flourishing, whilst the Con- 
federacy was at the end of its resources. The food supply from 
the west was cut off, clothes and tools were giving out, and the 
blockade was stricter than ever. Farragut's great victory in Mobile 
Bay closed up that entrance in x\ugust, while on the ocean the 
chief Confederate cruisers were captured. One of these cases — 
the destruction of the famous Alabama in June by the Kearsarge, 
off the coast of France, — was especially interesting, as the Alabama 
was British-built and manned by British seamen and gunners, and 
the contest seemed to teach a similar lesson to those of 1812. 
The guns of the Kearsarge sent her to the bottom in an hour. 

Sherman's campaign in Georgia revealed the exhausted condition 
of the Confederacy. He advanced from Chattanooga with 100,000 
men against Johnston's weaker force of 75,000, and by a series of 
skilful flank movements pushed him back upon Atlanta, after three 
battles at Resaca, Dallas, and Kenesaw Mountain, in which the 
Federals lost altogether about 14,000 men, and the Confederates 
about 11,000. Johnston's conduct had been extremely skilful, but 
he was now removed from command. His successor, Hood, 
believed in hard blows, and soon received some in two fierce 
sorties from Atlanta, July 22 and 28, in which he lost 13,000 men 
to Sherman's 4,000. On Sept. 2 Sherman took Atlanta. Hood 
now made a fatal mistake. He moved northwestward by Tus- 
cumbia and Florence into middle Tennessee, thinking that Sher- 
man would follow him. But instead, Sherman divided his army, 
sending back part of it under Thomas, to deal with Hood, while 
he himself prepared to continue his advance through Georgia. 
Hood, moving northward, was first defeated at Franklin, Nov. 30, 
with heavy loss, by Schofield. Then Hood encountered Thomas 
in a great batde at Nashville, Dec. 15 and 16. Hood had about 
44,000 men; Thomas about 56,000. The Federals lost about 
3,000 men ; the Confederates were totally defeated, with a loss 
of 15,000, and in the pursuit which followed, their army ceased 



574 HOW THE UNITED STATES 

to exist. Of all the battles fought in the course of the war, this 
was the most completely a victory. Meanwhile Sherman started 
from Atlanta about the middle of November, with 60,000 men 
marched unopposed through Georgia to the sea-coast, and cap- 
tured Savannah, Dec. 21. Throughout the North, congratula- 
tions over these remarkable campaigns mingled with the Christ- 
mas greetings. 

End of the War. — The foregoing survey shows the Union arms 
as having advanced, from the beginning, with remarkable steadiness 
and rapidity, toward the overthrow of the Confederacy ; but very 
few people were able to see this until after it was all over. These 
four years seemed very long while they were passing, and as peo- 
ple were always hoping for a colossal blow which would at once 
end the war, they failed to take account of the steady progress 
which was really being made. Besides this, the operations near 
Washington naturally assumed more prominence in people's eyes 
than the western operations, and here the prolonged resistance of 
Lee served further to confuse the popular estimate of passing 
events. Lee's defensive warfare was one of the most wonderful 
things in history, and imposed upon people's imaginations till they 
were almost ready to forget that even he could not hold out in- 
definitely, without a Confederacy behind him. Even in the sum- 
mer of 1 864 Lee was able to alarm the government at Washington 
by sending the gallant Early on an expedition down the Shenan- 
doah valley, like that which Jackson had conducted two years 
before. In a very able and romantic campaign, Sheridan com- 
pletely defeated Early; but the impression produced upon the 
northern mind was great. In the nominating conventions held in 
the course of the summer, between the battle of Spottsylvania and 
Sherman's capture of Atlanta, the Republicans nominated Lincoln 
for re-election ; but some radical Rej^ublicans, who condemned 
his measures as too feeble, nominated Fremont ; and the Demo- 
crats, with scarcely less absurdity, in nominating McClellan, de- 
manded that peace should be made, on the ground that the war 
was a failure. Before the election, Fremont withdrew his name. 
McClellan obtained 21 electoral votes froni New Jersey, Dela- 



BECAME A NATION. 575 

ware, and Kentucky ; the 212 votes of the other states not in re- 
belhon were given to Lincohi. 

Early in 1865 the Confederacy fell so suddenly that it seemed 
like the collapse of a bubble. The year opened auspiciously 
with Schofield's capture of Wilmington, the last Confederate port 
except Charleston, which fell as soon as Sherman's northward 
march began. He advanced through the Carolinas, partly over 
the same route taken by Cornwallis in 1781. From various quar- 
ters Johnston contrived to gather 40,000 men to oppose him, 
but was defeated near Goldsborough, March 19. By this time 
Lee had made up his mind to abandon Petersburg and Rich- 
mond, move by way of Danville, and effect a junction with John- 
ston. To prevent such a concentration of forces. Grant moved 
Sheridan southwesterly to Five Forks, upon Lee's right or southern 
flank. Here Sheridan, in the last battle of the war, secured his 
position. To avoid being outflanked, Lee was forced to lengthen 
his line, already too weak; and now Grant, with 100,000 men, 
broke through it. The Confederate government fled from Rich- 
mond, and Lee, driven westward, was headed off at Appomattox 
Court-house, where on April 9 he surrendered his army, now re- 
duced to 26,000 men. A fortnight later, Johnston surrendered to 
Sherman, and the war was ended. Never was an overthrow more 
complete and final than that of the Confederacy, and never had 
soldiers fought more gallantly than those who were now surren- 
dered. All were at once set free on parole, and no dismal execu- 
tions for treason were allowed to sully the glorious triumph of the 
United States. The public rejoicings were clouded by the death 
of the wise and gentle Lincoln, struck down in the moment of vic- 
tory by the hand of a wretched assassin. His name will forever 
be remembered, side by side with the name of Washington ; for 
he was, in many ways, the second founder of the United States. 
The work of unparalleled glory begun by Washington — of found- 
ing a nation so peaceful and so mighty that, through its own 
peaceful development, it might by and by sow broadcast over the 
world the seeds of permanent peace among men — was brought 
to its next stage of completion by Lincoln. So long as the chief 



576 HOW THE UNITED STATES BECAME A NATION. 

source of contention remained, the future might well seem doubt- 
ful. The work of 1776 first came to full fruition in 1865 ; and 
when this is duly considered, it reveals the moral grandeur of 
American history, and suggests lessons which we shall all do well 
to learn. 



GLOSSARY. 

WITH THE PRONUNCIATION OF DIFFICULT WORDS. 
By D. H. M. 

6, e as in met ; a, a as in far ; a, a as in fate ; g, g as in get ; 

n, n nearly like ng. 



Ab'atis (literally, a mass of 
thrown down) : a defence constructed 
by piling up felled trees with their 
branches towards the enemy's line. 

Adjutant-general : principal officer 

on the staff of commander-in-chief. 

Admiralty: see Court of Admi- 
ralty. 

Agrarian law : a Roman law for the 
equal division of public lands. In 
general, any law which divides the 
property of a country equally among 
its inhabitants. 

Aide-de-camp (ad'de-kon, literally, a 
camp assistant) : an officer who as- 
sists a general in his military duties, 
conveying orders and procuring in- 
telligence. 

Aix LA Chapelle (aks-la-sha'pel') : a 
city of Prussia. 

Alien : a foreign resident, or a person 
born of foreign parents who has never 
obtained the rights of citizenship. 

American Fabius: see Fabius. 

Amerigo Vespucci : see Vespucci. 

Andr£ (an'dray). 

Antietam (an-tee'tam) : a creek in 
Maryland. 



Appomattox (ap'po-mat'tox) : a river 
and village in Virginia. 

Approaches: intrenchments or mili- 
tary works of any kind, such as 
mounds of earth, etc., by which a be- 
sieging force draws nearer to the be- 
sieged, while at the same time they 
protect themselves from attack. 

A QUEL regiment? to what regiment 
(do you belong)? 

Archives : here, documents relating to 
a family; e.g., the Washington ar- 
chives kept at Mt. Vernon. 

Armada (literally, a fleet of armed 
ships) : the Invincible Armada was a 
fleet of 130 ships of war sent out by 
Philip II. of Spain in 1588 for the con- 
quest of England. The expedition 
proved a total failure, partly through 
defeat and partly through a tremen- 
dous storm which wrecked a great 
number of the vessels. 

Armistice: a temporary suspension of 
hostilities by agreement of the parties. 

Austrian Succession : see War. 

Auto-da-fe (au'to-da-fa, literally, an 
act, in the sense of a decree or judg- 
ment, of faith) : usually, the execution 



578 



GLOSSARY. 



of a judgment of the Spanish Inquisi- 
tion condemning a heretic to be burnt ; 
hence the public destruction of any- 
thing, as the Stamp Act, by commit- 
ting it to the flames. 
AuvERGNE (o'vairn') : a province of 
France. 

Balboa (bal-bo'a). 

Bale fire : a signal or alarm fire, usu- 
ally kindled on a height. 

Baronetcy : the title and honor of a 
baronet, an order of rank founded by 
James I. of England ; a baronet has 
the title of Sir ; he does not possess a 
seat in the House of Lords. 

Bastion (from French batir, to build) : 
a mass of earth, faced with sods, brick, 
or stones, built out from a rampart, of 
which it is a part, so as to protect it 
by the guns of the place. 

Bateau (ba-to', pi. bateaux, same pro- 
nunciation) : a long, light boat. 

Bateaux : see Bateau. 

Bath : see Knight Commander. 

Battalion : i. a division of an army 
in order of battle ; 2. a body of in- 
fantry or foot-soldiers, varying in num- 
ber from 300 to 1,000 men. 

Battery : a body of cannon for field 
operations, consisting generally of 
from four to eight guns, with wagons 
carrying ammunition and artillery- 
men. 

Bayard (ba'erd) : a French knight of 
the 15th century, renowned for his 
valor, generosity, and high sense of 
honor. The " Bayard of the South " : 
Marion, an American officer who ex- 
hibited the spirit of Bayard. 

Beat up: to make a sudden and un- 
expected attack. 

Beau ideal (bo-i-de'al) : an ideal per- 
son or thing, any model of excellence 
conceived by the mind. 

Beaujeu (bo'zhuh'). 

Beauregard (bo'reh-gard'). 



Belles LETTRES (bel-let'tr) : rhetoric, 
poetry, history, or polite literature in 
general. 

Billet : to quarter or place soldiers in 
private houses. 

Bivouac: to encamp in the open air 
without tents or covering. It is usu- 
ally done on the eve of a battle when 
the enemy are close at hand. 

Blackmail: any kind of extortion, es- 
pecially extortion by means of intimi- 
dation or threats. 

Block-house: a fortress constructed 
of heavy timber. 

Bomb (bum) : a hollow ball of iron 
filled with explosive material — now 
usually called a shell. It is fired from 
a mortar or short cannon, and so 
arranged that it bursts with great vio- 
lence just as it strikes the object aimed 
at. 

Bomb-ketch (bum'kech) : a small, 
strongly built vessel for throwing 
bombs in an attack by sea. 

Boom : a chain or other obstruction 
fastened across a river or harbor to 
prevent the passage of an enemy's 
ships. 

Borough : in Virginia, a district or town 
sending one or more burgesses or rep- 
resentatives to the legislature called 
the House of Burgesses. 

Boston Tea-Party : a popular name 
given to an occurrence in Boston 
Harbor, when, on Dec. 15, 1773, a 
body of citizens disguised as Indians 
destroyed a large quantity of tea which 
the British government was attempting 
to land against the will of the colonists. 

Bounty: a premium offered by gov- 
ernment to induce men to enlist in 
military service. 

Bouquet (boo'kay'). 

BOURLAMAQUI (boor'la-ma'ke'). 

Brigade : a division of troops consist- 
ing of several regiments or battalions. 

Burgess : see Borough. 



GLOSSARY. 



579 



Burning in effigy : see Effigy. 
Bush-fighter: one who fights from 
behind trees or bushes. 

Cabal: a number of persons united 
in a secret purpose or intrigue, gen- 
erally of a political character. 

Cabinet: a council of state, those 
who manage the affairs of a gov- 
ernment. 

Calligraphy : fine or ornamental 
penmanship. 

Canister shot: shot enclosed in a 
metal case; when fired from a can- 
non the case bursts, and the shot 
scatter in every direction with deadly 
effect. 

Canton : to quarter or station an army, 
to establish a camp. 

Cantonment (literally, a small dis- 
trict or territory) : the place where 
an army, or any part of it, is quar- 
tered. 

Captain-general: the commander- 
in-chief of an army. 

Carriage : a wagon or wheeled vehi- 
cle of any kind for carrying ammuni- 
tion, military supplies, or artillery. 

Carrying-place: a narrow tract of 
land across which merchandise, mili- 
tary stores, etc., are carried from one 
navigable body of water to another. 

Cartier (kar'te-a'). 

Cartouche-box : a box for carrying 
cartridges or ammunition. 

Cartridge-paper : a paper used in 
making cartridges. 

Cavalier : a name given to a member 
of the party, chiefly country gentle- 
men and nobles, that maintained the 
cause of Charles I. during the Civil 
War in England. The cavaliers were 
noted for their dashing and daring 
horsemanship ; hence the name. 

Cavalry : a body of soldiers on horse- 
back. They are classified as light 
and heavy cavalry with reference to 



the size of the men and horses and 
their equipments. A complete regi- 
ment of cavalry is divided into four 
squadrons, and each of them into 
troops of sixty-eight men each. 

Censorship of the press : formerly 
all books, newspapers, etc., were ex- 
amined by censors or officers ap- 
pointed for that purpose in order to 
prevent the publication of anything 
obnoxious to the government or to 
the church. 

Chancery : a high court of justice. 

Charger : a war-horse. 

Charter (Lat. charta, parchment or 
paper on which anything may be 
written) : i. in colonial history, a 
solemn written grant made by the 
king to a colony, conferring or secur- 
ing certain rights and privileges, such 
as the power of making laws, electing 
magistrates, etc. ; 2. an act of incor- 
poration or establishment, as a bank 
charter. 

Chaudiere (sho-de-air') : a river and 
lake of Canada. 

Chevalier (shev'a-leer') : a French 
title of rank, a member of certain or- 
ders of knighthood. 

Chevaux DE FRISE (shev'o'de-frez') : 
pieces of timber traversed with long 
projecting wooden or iron spikes and 
used to defend a passage against the 
advance of cavalry. Felled trees are 
also sometimes used for the same 
purpose, their projecting branches 
being turned towards the enemy. 

Chihuahua (che-wah'wah) : a city of 
Mexico. 

Cipher: a secret character used in 
writing. 

Clarion : a kind of trumpet giving a 
very clear and shrill sound. 

Claymore : usually, a double-edged 
broadsword resembling the large, 
heavy swords formerly used by the 
Scotch Highlanders. 



580 



GLOSSARY. 



Cockade : a knot of ribbon or a leather 
rosette worn on the hat as a badge. 

COHORN : a small portable mortar or 
cannon for throwing shells. 

COLIGNY (ko'len'ye'). 

Column : a body of troops, narrow in 
front, but deep from front to rear — 
the opposite of a line, which is ex- 
tended in front with but little depth. 

Commissariat: i. that department of 
an army whose duty it is to supply 
provisions, transports, camp equipage, 
forage for horses, etc. ; 2. the body 
of officers in that department usually 
under the command of a commissary- 
general. 

Commissary: an officer in the com- 
missariat. 

CONOCOCHEAGUE (kon'o-ko-chig') : a 
river of Pennsylvania and Maryland. 

Continental : a soldier belonging to 
the army of Congress or the United 
States during the war of American 
independence. The American army 
before Boston was called the Conti- 
nental Army in distinction from that 
under the British commander. Gen- 
eral Gage, which was called the Min- 
isterial Army, because representing 
the ministry or government of Eng- 
land. 

CONTRECCEUR (kontr'-kur'). 

Cordon : a line of military posts or 
sentinels. 

Corporal : the lowest officer of a body 
of foot-soldiers. 

Corps (kor, literally, a body) : a body 
of troops ; any division of an army. 

Corps de reserve: a body of re- 
served troops. 

Corvette : a war-vessel carrying a sin- 
gle tier of guns and having no quarter- 
deck. 

Coup de grace (koo'de-gras', literally, 
a stroke of mercy) : originally, the fa- 
tal blow given by an executioner to a 
criminal on the wheel or rack in or- 



der to end his sufferings— a finishing 
stroke, a death-blow. 

Coup de main (koo'deh-man', literally, 
a stroke or blow of the hand) : a sud- 
den and unexpected enterprise or at- 
tack. 

Court-martial: a court of military 
officers organized for the trial of mil- 
itary offences. 

Court of Admiralty: a tribunal 
having jurisdiction in maritime cases, 
whether civil or criminal, such as dis- 
putes between joint owners of vessels, 
mutiny, etc. 

Covenant : an oath taken by the Scot- 
tish Puritans to maintain their relig- 
ion. 

Covenanter : one who swore to main- 
tain the Covenant. The Covenanters 
resisted the attempts of Charles II. 
to enforce the rites of the Church of 
England. 

Cover : i. a hiding-place ; 2. to pro- 
tect or defend. 

Cover : the table furniture for the use 
of one person, such as a plate, spoon, 
knife and fork, glass, napkin, etc. 

Cow-boy : one of a band of marauders 
during the American Revolution, gen- 
erally a deserter or refugee belonging 
to the British side, who infested the 
neutral ground between the British 
and American lines, and plundered 
the Revolutionists. A similar class 
belonging to the American side were 
called " Skinners." 

Culloden : a place in Scotland where 
the Scottish rebels, headed by the 
Young Pretender, who claimed the 
English throne, were defeated by the 
English forces in 1746. After the bat- 
tle many Scotch Highlanders fled to 
America. 

Death's-head: a human skull, or a 
figure or a painting representing one, 
often with two bones crossed beneath. 



GLOSSARY. 



581 



Defile : to march off in a line, or file 
by file. 

De Monts (deh-mon'). 

Deploy (literally, to unfold) : to ex- 
tend or form in a line of small depth 
troops that have been previously 
formed in one or more columns. 

Dettingen : see War of Austrian 
Succession. 

Dictatorial: after the manner of a 
Roman dictator, a magistrate in- 
vested with unlimited power, both 
civil and military; hence, any abso- 
lute or arbitrary power. 

Dieskau (dees'kow). 

Division : a part of an army ; specifi- 
cally, two or three brigades com- 
manded by a major-general. 

Double sap : see Sap. 

" Dower negroes " : negroes included 
in the property which a woman brings 
to her husband in marriage, or those 
to which she has a right after his 
death. 

Dragoon : a cavalry or horse-soldier, 
styled heavy or light dragoon, accord- 
ing to his arms, etc. 

Duchy : the dominions of a duke ; a 
dukedom. 

Duquesne (dii'kane'). 

Edict of Nantz (or Nantes) : see 
Huguenot. 

Effigy : an image or picture. " To 
burn in effigy " : to burn the image or 
picture of a person as an expression 
of contempt or dislike. 

Embrasure: an opening in a wall or 
parapet through which cannon are 
fired. 

Enfilade : to pierce or rake a line of 
troops or a military work with shot 
through its whole length. 

Ensign : an officer who formerly car- 
ried the ensign, or colors, of the regi- 
ment. 

Entail : i. an estate which by law can 



descend only to a particular heir or 
heirs, as to the eldest son, and at his 
death to his eldest son, and so on ; 
2. to settle the descent of an estate so 
that it shall descend only to a certain 
heir or heirs — to transmit in an unal- 
terable course or line. 

Escalade: i. a furious attack made 
by troops on a fortified place, in which 
ladders are used to scale or mount 
the walls ; 2. to scale or mount a 
fort with ladders. 

Express : a messenger sent on a par- 
ticular errand or occasion. 

Fabian : delaying, avoiding battle after 
the manner of the Roman general 
Fabius. 

Fabius : a celebrated Roman who con- 
ducted a war against the Carthaginian 
general Hannibal, and whose policy 
was to wear out the enemy by delay 
rather than risk a battle in the open 
field. Washington's circumstances 
were such that at more than one period 
he found it expedient to follow this pol- 
icy ; hence the name, Americati Fabius. 

Fanfaronade: i. a flourish of trum- 
pets ; 2. bluster, empty boasting. 

Fascine: a bundle of sticks used in 
strengthening ramparts in fortifica- 
tions, or in filling ditches, in order to 
make a passage for troops to pass 
over in making an attack. 

Fatigue duty, etc. : the work of sol- 
diers distinct from the use of arms, as 
digging trenches, building fortifica- 
tions, etc. " Fatigue party " : one 
engaged in fatigue duty. 

Fauquier (fok'e-a'). 

Feint (faint) : a pretended attack. 

Fete (fate, literally, a feast) : a holiday 
or festival. 

Feudal (from /eud, cattle or prop- 
erty) : that which relates to the feu- 
dal system, a form of government 
formerly prevailing in Europe, under 



582 



GLOSS AR V. 



which all land was held either directly 
from the king as supreme owner, or 
from one of the king's tenants, on 
condition of doing military or other 
service by way of rent. 

Feu DE JOIE (fed-zhwa', literally, _^re 
of joy) : a bonfire, or a firing of guns 
in token of joy. 

Field-marshal : the highest rank 
conferred in the British or French 
armies. 

Field-piece : a small cannon mounted 
on wheels for use on the battle-field. 

Filibustering : the act of engaging in 
lawless military expeditions, especially 
for plunder. 

Fiord (fyord, pronounced in one syl- 
lable) : a long, narrow inlet bounded 
by high banks or rocks. Fiords are 
common on the coast of Norway. 

Firelock : a musket or other gun hav- 
ing a flint-lock in distinction from 
modern guns, which are fired by a 
percussion-lock. 

Fire-ship: a vessel filled with combus- 
tible materials, such as tar, oil, etc., 
and furnished with grappling-irons to 
hook on and set fire to an enemy's 
ships. 

First consul: the title given to the 
first one of three chief magistrates or 
rulers of France from 1799-1804. 

Flank: i. the side of an army or of 
any body of troops ; 2. that part of a 
fort which defends another part; 3. 
to attack the flank of the enemy, to 
take them at a disadvantage. 

Flotilla: a small fleet or a fleet of 
small vessels. 

Flying squadron : see Squadron. 

FONTAINEBLEAU (fon' tan-blo') : a 
place near Paris. 

FoNTENOY : see War of the Aus- 
trian Succession. 

Forlorn hope : i. an advance body 
of troops or skirmishers ; 2. a detach- 
ment of men appointed to lead an 



assault on a fort or to perform any 
perilous service. 

Fosse (foss) ; a trench or moat around 
a fort. 

Frank : to exempt from charge for 
postage, the privilege of sending let- 
ters, etc., free. 

Freeman : in the colonial history of 
America, a person entitled to vote, 
one having all the privileges of citi- 
zenship. 

Frigate : a fast-sailing armed vessel 
or man-of-war, usually carrying from 
thirty to sixty guns. 

Furlough : permission given to a sol- 
dier to be absent from service for a 
specified time. 

Fusee : a small, light musket. 

Fusileer : a soldier armed with a light 
musket. 

Gabion : a large, tall basket filled with 
earth to shelter men from an enemy's 
fire. Fascines (bundles of sticks) are 
usually placed on the top of a row of 
gabions. 

Galley : a low, flat-built vessel navi- 
gated with sails and oars. 

Garter: see Knight of the Gar- 
ter. 

General: a beat of drum which noti- 
fies the infantry to be ready to march. 

General Court : a name sometimes 
given to a state legislature. 

Genet (zheh'nay'). 

Genii (ge'ni-I, plural oigenms ox genie) : 
good or bad spirits. 

Glebe : the land belonging to a parish 
church. 

Gondola : in the United States, a large, 
flat-bottomed boat for carrying prod- 
uce ; also used to transport troops. 

Gorges (gor'jez). 

Gorget : armor for the throat ; also, a 
high leather collar. 

Gourgues (goorg). 

Grapeshot: cannon-shot about the 



GLOSSARY. 



583 



size of very large grapes. They are 
so packed that when fired they scatter 
with great destructive force. 
GREENS : the name of a famous British 
corps, or regiment, derived from the 
color of their uniforms. 
Grenadier: originally a soldier who 
threw small explosive shells called 
grenades. When hand-grenades 
ceased to be used, the name "grena- 
dier" was retained for the companies 
who were picked men of more than 
ordinary height, and were distin- 
guished by a particular dress which 
included a high bear-skin cap. In 
the British army the grenadier com- 
pany was the first of each battalion. 
Later the name was given to a regi- 
ment of guards. 
Groton (graw'ton) : a town in Massa- 
chusetts. 
Guerilla warfare (literally, IMe or 
petty ivarfare) : warfare carried on in 
an irregular manner by independent 
bands of armed countrymen. 
GUICHEN (ghee'shoh') : a village of 

France. 
Guinea: an English gold coin no 
longer used - worth a little more than 

$5- 
Gunboat : a small vessel fitted to carry 
one or more heavy cannon, and firom 
its light draught capable of running 
close inshore or up rivers. 

HABEAS Corpus (literally, ;'^?^ maykave 
the body) : in law, a writ to inquire 
into the cause of a person's imprison- 
ment or detention, with the view of 
obtaining his liberation. It was estab- 
lished by act of Parliament in the 
reign of Charles II. (1679) to pre- 
vent the king from detaining persons 
in custody without bringing them to 

trial. 
Halcyon : calm, peaceful, happy. 
Hampshire Grants: a name given 



during the Revolution to a part of the 
country lying west of the Connecticut 
River and now included in the state 
of Vermont. 
Hard money : silver or gold coin as 
opposed to the Continental or paper 
money issued by the American gov- 
ernment during the Revolution, which 
soon fell in value so that a dollar of it 
was worth only a small part of that 
sum, and eventually ceased to have 
any value whatever. 
Heavy dragoon : see Dragoon. 
Hell Gate: a narrow and rocky part 
of the East River near the upper end 
_of New York City; it received its 
"name from the difficulty and danger 
which formerly attended its naviga- 
tion. 
Hessian: one of a body of troops 
from Hesse-Cassel and other German 
states, hired by the British government 
to aid in suppressing the American 
Revolution. These mercenaries were 
often employed in expeditions where 
plundering, burning, and other brutal 
acts were the prominent features; 
and for this reason they were espe- 
cially detested by the colonists. 
HOLY Alliance: a treaty concluded 
in 18 15 between the sovereigns of 
Russia, Austria, and Prussia, of which 
the declared object was to establish a 
union of the three forms of Chris- 
tianity—the Greek Church, the Ro- 
man Church, and Protestantism — as 
a foundation for government. 
Hornwork: an outwork in fortifica- 
tion, consisting of angular points or 
horns. 
House of Burgesses: a name given 
to the Virginia legislature. See Bur- 
gess. 
Howitzer : a short, light cannon spe- 
cially designed for the horizontal fir- 
ing of shells or bombs. 
Huger : (u'jee'). 



584 



GLOSSARY. 



Huguenot (hu'ge-not) : a French 
Protestant of the sixteenth century. 
By a law called the Edict of Nantz 
or Nantes, Henry IV. of France 
granted toleration to his Protestant 
subjects in 1598. In 1685 Louis XIV. 
revoked the Edict. Persecution again 
began against the Huguenots, and 
thousands fled to England and 
Germany. Eventually many, among 
vv^hom were the ancestors of Paul 
Revere, emigrated to America and 
took an active part in the Revolution. 

Hulled : to hull, to pierce the hull or 
body of a ship with a cannon-ball. 

Hussar : one of a company of light 
cavalry. 

Impeach: to accuse by public author- 
ity. In the United States, a charge 
of impeachment is brought by the 
House of Representatives and tried 
by the Senate. 

INDENTURE: any bond or covenant, 
but usually one made between a 
master and his apprentice ; each 
party to the agreement keeps a copy 
of the paper. Originally, this was 
one sheet which was cut in two in an 
indented or irregular line, so that 
each part might correspond with the 
other, and thus prove it genuine. 

Infantry : soldiers that serve on foot, 
as distinguished from cavalry or horse 
soldiers. Infantry are classed as light 
or heavy, according to their equip- 
ments. 

Interim: the meantime; time inter- 
vening. 

Invincible Armada: see Armada. 

Iroquois (Ir'o-kwoy). ^ 

Isle aux Noix (eel'o-nwa', nut-tree 
island ) : an island near Quebec. 

Jean Ribaut (zhan re'bo'), 
Junius : the name assumed by the un- 
known writer of a series of remark- 



able political letters, pubhshed in a 
London newspaper in the reign of 
George III., severely criticising the 
king and the government. 
Justification: in theology, the act or 
state by which a person is accounted 
just or righteous in the sight of God ; 
that by which he is saved, as justifi- 
cation through faith in Christ, or jus- 
tification through good works. 

Knight Commander of the Bath : 
a member of an English military 
order instituted or revived by George 
I. in 1725. It originally consisted of 
the king, a grand master, and thirty- 
six companions. 

Knight of the Garter : a member 
of one of the most exclusive and 
illustrious orders of military knight- 
hood in Europe, founded in the four- 
teenth century, by Edward III. of 
England. It is nominally limited to 
twenty-six members. 

Kosciusko (kos-yoo'sko, Polish 
pron.) : a Polish patriot of noble 
family who came to America in 
1777, and fought with distinction at 
New York and Yorktown, gaining 
the friendship of Washington. After 
the Revolution he returned to his 
native country. 

La Mothe (lah'mof). 

Large pickets : see Pickets. 

Lauzun (lo'zun') : a town of France. 

Lectures : Mrs. Hutchinson's lectures 
consisted in preaching and discussing 
the theological doctrines of her day. 

Legion : a body of troops. 

Letter in cipher: see Cipher. 

Letter of marque: usually, a gov- 
ernment commission, granted to the 
commander of a private ship, to at- 
tack and seize the vessels of another 
nation by way of retaliation or as an 
offset to seizures made by them. 



GLOSSARY. 



585 



Levy : troops raised by government. 
Light dragoon : see Dragoon. 
Light Horse : see Cavalry. 
Light troops: soldiers selected and 

equipped for rapid movement. They 

are often employed to protect other 

troops. 
Line : usually, the infantry of an army, 

but sometimes used of cavalry. 
Line-of-battle-ship : see Ship-of- 

the-line. 
Linstock : a match formerly used for 

firing a cannon. 
Lord of the manor : see Manor. 

M.: an abbreviated prefix to French 
names of persons, as M. Girard, sig- 
nifying Monsieur, and equivalent to 
the English Mr. 

Macaroni : one of a body of Maryland 
troops in the Revolution, remarkable 
for their showy uniforms. 

" Machine politician " : one who re- 
gards politics as a trade requiring 
little intelligence and no principle. 

Magazine: a strong building, usually 
fireproof, for storing gunpowder and 
other explosives ; also, a room on a 
man-of-war used for the same purpose. 

Magellan (ma-jellan'). 

Manor : (man'or) the estate of a lord 
or of a person of rank. 

Manorial court: a domestic court 
held within the manor for settling dis- 
putes among tenants, punishing of- 
fences, etc. 

Marbois (mar'bwah'). 

Marquette (mar'ket'). 

Marquisate: the dignity or estate of 
a marquis. 

Martinet : a military or naval officer 
who is an exceedingly strict discipli- 
narian ; one who is very particular 
about little things. 

McCrea (mak-kra). 

Melee (ma-la) : a general or confused 
fight ; a hand-to-hand contest. 



Midshipman: a petty ofiicer in the 
navy, occupying the highest rank 
among the petty officers. 

Militia : a body of citizens trained to 
the exercises of war for the deferice of 
a country, but not permanently or- 
ganized during peace, or under gov- 
ernment pay like regular troops. 

Ministerialist: i. one of a party 
who upheld the British ministry in 
their tyrannical measures against the 
American colonies ; 2. Ministerialist 
army, etc., the troops sent to America 
by the British government to suppress 
the Revolution. 

Minute man : one of a body of 
American troops who held themselves 
ready for service at a minute's notice. 

Mirepoix (meer'pwah'). 

Mortar: a short cannon with a large 
bore, used for throwing bombs, shells, 
etc. 

MOTHE (mot). 

Myrmidon : a soldier of a rough char- 
acter, one of a rutifianly band follow- 
ing an unscrupulous leader. 

Narrows : a short strait which con- 
nects New York harbor with the lower 
bay. 

Netherlands: the Low Countries, 
now known as Holland and Belgium ; 
when the Dutch from Holland estab- 
lished a colony in America, they called 
it New Netherland. The British, when 
they seized it, changed the name to 
New York, in honor of the Duke of 
York, Charles H.'s brother, who be- 
came James H. 

Ninety-Six : a fort on the site of the 
vill^^ of Cambridge, in Abbeville 
District, South Carolina. It was so 
named because it was ninety-six miles 
from the frontier fort Prince George, 
on the Keowee River. 

Noblesse : the nobility of France. It 
differed from that of England in the 



586 



GLOSSARY. 



fact that all the children of noble pa- 
rents inherited their parents' rank and 
privileges, while in England these 
were, and still are, restricted to the 
eldest son. Here the word is used 
of the French nobility of Canada. 

Non-commissioned officer : an offi- 
cer not holding a commission from 
the government ; a subordinate officer 
below the rank of lieutenant, as a 
sergeant or corporal. 

Norman Conquest : the invasion and 
conquest of England by the Normans 
under Duke William of Normandy 
(France) in 1066. 

Nous Y VOICI : here we are. 

Nullification : specifically, the act 
of a state annuUing or rendering void 
an enactment of the general govern- 
ment on the ground that it is uncon- 
stitutional. 

Offing: that part of the sea beyond 
the mid-line between the coast and 
horizon. 

Old Regime (ray'zheem') : an ancient 
or former system of government and 
society, especially that which prevailed 
in France before the Revolution of 
1789. 

Oligarchy: i. government by a 
small, exclusive class ; 2. those who 
form such a class. 

Orderly book: a book for every 
company of troops in which the or- 
derly sergeant or officer of the day 
writes general and regimental orders. 

Orderly sergeant : see Orderly 

BOOK. 

Ordnance: cannon or other artillery. 
Orleans (or'la'oii'). 
Ours (oor). 



Palatinate: the province ruled over 
by a palatine or noble having royal 
powers and privileges. Such prov- 
inces were practically answerable, not 

* In England the duchy of Lancaster, the earldom of Chester, and the bishopric of Dur 
h.iin, and in America the province of Maryland, were palatinates. 



to the king, but to the person who 
governed them. One of the old divis- 
ions of Germany was commonly called 
the Palatinate.* 

Palisade : i. a row of strong stakes or 
posts set upright firmly in the ground 
as a fortification ; 2. to surround or 
fortify with palisades. 

Palladium (from the goddess Pallas, 
whose image protected Troy) : any- 
thing that protects, as the Constitution 
of the United States is the palladium 
of Liberty. 

Palmetto : a kind of palm growing in 
the Southern States ; it is very soft 
and spongy and may be cut with a 
knife. 

Par : the original or standard price of 
any stock or coin : thus the par value 
of a dollar is one hundred cents, and 
of a share of stock usually one hun- 
dred dollars. 

Parallel : a trench cut in the ground 
before a fortress, parallel to its de- 
fences, for the purpose of covering 
the besiegers from the guns of the 
place. 

Park of artillery : the train of ar- 
tillery with ammunition, etc., which 
accompanies an army to the field. 

Parley : i. to confer with an enemy, 
as on an exchange of prisoners, or 
the subject of a surrender or peace; 
2. a conference with an enemy. " To 
beat a parley " : to beat a drum as a 
signal for holding a parley. 

Parole: a promise given by a pris- 
oner of war that he will not try to 
escape if allowed to go about at lib- 
erty; or if allowed to return to his 
home, that he will not bear arms 
against his captors for a certain 
time. 

Partisan : i. one of a party of troops 
sent on a special enterprise; 2. the 
officer commanding such a party, a 
person dexterous in obtaining intelli- 



GLOSSARY. 



587 



gence of the enemy's movements and 
in annoying them. 

Passe: pass. 

Patrician : noble or aristocratic. 

Patroon (literally, a patron or pro- 
tector^ : under the old Dutch colonial 
government of New York and New 
Jersey one who received a grant of a 
tract of land with privileges, among 
which was the right to entail the prop- 
erty. 

Peltry : the untanned or green skins of 
animals with their fur ; when the inner 
side is tanned, they are called furs. 

Picket: i. a guard posted in front of 
an army to give notice of the approach 
of the enemy, called an outlying picket ; 
2. a detachment of troops kept fully 
equipped and ready for immediate 
service in case of alarm, called an 
inlying picket ; 3. a small detachment 
of men, called z. picket guard, sent out 
from a camp or garrison to bring in 
such soldiers as have exceeded their 
leave of absence. 

Pisa (pee'za) : a city in Italy. 

Plantation : a colony or settlement 
in a new country, as Providence Plan- 
tations. 

Platoon : formerly a small body of 
foot-soldiers drawn up so as to form a 
hollow square or a small body acting 
together, but separate from the main 
body. Now, two files forming a sub- 
division of a company. " Platoon 
firing " : firing by subdivisions. 

Polemic : a controversialist, or dispu- 
tant. 

Post : " to take post," to establish a 
military station, to occupy a position 
with troops. 

Postilion: one who rides (and drives) 
one of a pair of horses attached to a 
carriage or other vehicle. 

Pound : in English money, the sum of 
twenty shillings, or nearly ^5. 

Pragmatical : meddling, officious. 



Prerogative : an exclusive or peculiar 
privilege or pre-eminence. 

Presque Isle (presk eel). 

Press : i. to force men into the naval 
service; 2. a detachment of seamen 
empowered to seize and press men 
into the navy. 

Prince of Orange: afterwards Wil- 
liam III. of England. 

Proprietary government : the gov- 
ernment of a colony by one or more 
proprietaries, or proprietors ; that is, 
persons to whom the king of Eng- 
land had granted the ownership of 
the territory and the right to make 
laws therein ; thus Lord Baltimore 
was proprietary of Maryland, and 
William Penn of Pennsylvania. 

Prototype (literally, the first type, a 
model') : an original or model after 
which anything is formed. 

Provincial: the American colonies 
were originally known as British prov- 
inces, or dependencies of the govern- 
ment of Great Britain. For this rea- 
son their inhabitants were often called 
Provincials, a name which was also 
sometimes given to their soldiers to 
distinguish them from the regular 
troops sent over from the mother 
country. 

Quartermaster : an officer who has 
charge of the quarters (barracks, 
tents, etc.) of a regiment, and also of 
the regimental stores of provisions, 
clothing, etc. 

Quit-rent : Here, money paid for the 
privilege of holding land of which the 
title had been annulled by abolition 
of the colonial charter. 

Quota : a certain share or proportion ; 
thus each colony was to furnish its 
quota of troops. 

Ragout (ra'goo') : stewed and highly 
seasoned meat. 



588 



GLOSSARY. 



Ranger : a name given formerly to one 
of a body of mounted troops who 
ranged the country and often fought 
on foot. 

Rank and file: the whole body of 
common soldiers. 

Redoubt: i. usually, a fortification 
having no defending outworks ; 2. a 
temporary field-fortification ; 3. a cen- 
tral stronghold constructed within 
other works, serving as a place of 
retreat. 

Regicide judge (regicide, literally, a 
kinq-slayej) : a name given to a mem- 
ber or judge of the court which con- 
demned Charles I. of England to 
death. 

Regular : a soldier belonging to a 
permanent standing-army ; not a vol- 
unteer or one of the militia. 

Reine (rain) : queen. 

Rendezvous (ron'deh-voo) : i. a place 
of meeting by appointment, especially 
a place for assembling troops ; 2. to 
gather troops at an appointed place. 

Reprisal : i. the seizure or taking of 
anything from an enemy by way of 
retaliation, or as an offset for some- 
thing taken by him ; 2. that which 
is taken. 

Reveille (re-val'ya) : a signal given 
by beat of drum or otherwise at day- 
break, for soldiers to rise. 

RiBAULT, Jean : see Jean. 

Ricochet (rik'o-shet) : a rebounding 
from a fiat surface, as of a cannon- 
ball from the ground. 

Ricochet ball : a ball fired in such a 
way that it rolls or bounds along. 

Robin Hood: the name of a cele- 
brated English outlaw or robber of 
the twelfth century. See Scott's 
" Ivanhoe." 

Rochambeau (ro'shon'bo'). 

Round of ammunition : sufficient 
ammunition for firing once. 

ROUND-SHOT: a solid shot of cjist-iron 



or shell, generally weighing from three 
pounds upwards. 

Royal Greens : see Greens. 

Royalist: originally, in America, a 
Virginian who adhered to Charles II. 
of England while that king was in 
exile. Later, one who defended the 
king's cause, and was opposed to the 
independence of the colonies. 

Royal Province: a province whose 
governor was appointed by the king. 

Royals: the name formerly given to 
the first regiment of foot-soldiers in 
the British army — supposed to be 
the oldest regular corps in Europe. 

Sachem (sa'chem) : an Indian chief. 
Sail-of-the-line: see Ship-of-the- 

LINE. 

Sally-port: a passage from the inner 
to the outer works of a fort to enable 
the troops to make a sally or sudden 
attack on the enemy. Such passages 
are often constructed under ground ; 
when not in use they are closed with 
massive gates. 

Sap : i. to dig, sap, or trench ; 2. a 
narrow trench by which approach is 
made to a besieged place. The earth 
thrown out in digging a sap forms a 
rampart or protecting parapet. A 
single sap has such a parapet on one 
side only ; a double sap has it on each 
side. 

Sapping and mining: digging a sap 
or trench and undermining the wall 
of a fortress in order to blow it up. 

Saracen : an Arab, or Turk ; a Moham- 
medan. 

Savannah (or Savanna) : an extensive 
plain or meadow, lowland destitute of 
trees; at certain seasons savannahs 
are sometimes wet and swampy. 

Schenectady (ske-nek'ta-dy). 

Seine : a kind of fishing-net. 

Seven Year's War: the war main- 
tained by Prussia in alliance with 



GLOSSARY. 



589 



England, against Austria, Russia, and 
France, 1756-1763. During this war 
the English conquered and obtained 
the French possessions in America. 

Ship money; a tax levied by Charles 
I. on all the counties of England, on 
the pretext that the money was needed 
to furnish ships to defend the coast. 
This was one of the chief causes of 
the rebellion and civil war. 

Ship-OF-THE-LINE : a man-of-war large 
enough and of sufificient force to take 
its place in a line of battle, 

[Sic] : thus^ so (often used of a quo- 
tation in which there is something 
peculiar, to show that it stands thus 
in the original). 

SiEUR (se-gr) : a title of respect used by 
the French. 

Six-POUNDER: a cannon carrying a 
six-pound shot. 

Skinner : see Cow-boy. 

Small-clothes : breeches. Before the 
introduction of trousers, breeches and 
long stockings with buckle-shoes were 
generally worn by men. This was the 
dress at the time of the Revolution. 

Society of Friends: the name as- 
sumed by the religious body com- 
monly called Quakers. 

Soldier of fortune: a roving sol- 
dier who fights for love of adventure. 

Solitaire: a black ribbon attached 
to the bottom of a wig or to the 
hair, and worn loosely round the 
neck. 

Sortie: a sudden attack made by a 
body of besieged troops on their be- 
siegers. 

South Sea Bubble : a scheme devised 
in England, 1711-1720, intended to 
monopolize trade in the Southern 
Pacific and Atlantic oceans, and to 
pay up the national debt of Great 
Britain. It ended in wild specula- 
tion and bankruptcy. 

Spanish Succession : see War. 



Spike: to render a cannon, which has 
been abandoned, unserviceable to the 
enemy, by driving a spike or nail into 
the touch-hole. 

Spring-tide: an unusually high tide, 
which happens at or soon after the 
new and full moon. At this time the 
sun and the moon act together in 
raising the waters of the ocean. 

Spuyt den Duivel, or Spuyten 
DUYVIL (spl't'n dl'vil). 

Squadron : i. usually, the principal 
division of a regiment of cavalry ; 2. 
a division of a fleet, a detachment of 
ships of war employed on a particular 
service, a " Flying Squadron." 

Staff : a body of officers whose duties 
refer to a regiment as a whole. There 
is a general staff and a personal 
staff. The latter consists of persons 
attached to commanding general offi- 
cers as military secretaries and aides- 
de-camp, 

Stand-of-ARMS : a musket or rifle 
with its usual appendages, as a bay- 
onet, cartridge-box, etc. 

St, Clair (in England pronounced 
sin'klair). 

St. Leger (in England pronounced 
sil'li-jer, or sil'lin-jer). 

Stockade: a barrier or fortification 
made by planting trunks of trees, 
stakes, or rough timber in the ground, 
so as to enclose an area to be de- 
fended. 

Stock-jobbing: speculative, selfish, 
mercenary. 

Strike: i. to haul down a sail or a 
flag in token of surrender ; 2. to take 
down a tent. 

Subaltern : an officer holding a posi- 
tion below that of captain ; also, any 
one holding a subordinate or inferior 
position. 

Swivel: a small cannon so mounted 
that it can be turned in any direc- 
tion, 



590 



GLOSSARY. 



Tartar move: the Tartar tribes of 
Asia are noted for the suddenness of 
their movements ; hence any expedi- 
tion undertaken apparently without 
sufificient deliberation or rashly. 

I'EMPLE : one of the law-colleges in 
London, known respectively as the 
Inner Temple and the Middle Temple. 
They received their names from the 
military order of Knights Templars, 
who occupied the district in the twelfth 
and thirteenth centuries. 

Three-pounder : a cannon carrying 
a three-pound solid shot. 

Tory: originally one who supported 
the king and endeavored to extend 
his power. In the American colonies, 
especially after the Declaration of In- 
dependence, a Tory was one who 
opposed that measure and defended, 
either openly or secretly, the cause of 
Great Britain in its attempts to force 
the colonies to submit. 

Trailed arms: guns carried by the 
middle, in a slanting position, with 
the breech or stock near the ground. 

Transport: a vessel employed by 
government. 

Tumbril : a covered cart used for mili- 
tary purposes. 

Tyburn : the place in London where 
public executions took place during 
the last century. 

Utopian (from Utopia, the Land of 
No Where) : anything ideally perfect, 
purely imaginary, or wholly impracti- 
cable. 

Utrecht (u'trekt). 

Van : the front of an army or of a 

fleet. 
Vanguard: the troops who march in 

the van of an army; the advance 

guard. 
VauDREUIL (vo'drul', or vo-druh'ye) : 
Verrazzano (ver-rat-sa'no). 



Vespucci, Amerigo (a-ma-ree'go ves- 

poot'chee). 
Vestryman : a member of a parish or 

church who has the right to vote at 

parish meetings. 
Viceroy : one who governs in place of 

a king. 
Vidette : a mounted sentinel stationed 

at an outpost or elevated point to watch 

the enemy and give notice of danger. 
Viscount (vi'count). 

Waist of a Ship : the middle part of 
a ship — that between the quarter-deck 
and forecastle, or that part of the up- 
per deck between the fore and main 
mast. 

War HAWK: any person or thing in- 
dicating war. 

War of the Austrian Succession : 
a war undertaken by England and 
Holland in 1740 against France, Spain, 
Prussia, and Bavaria in defence of 
the right of Maria Theresa to her 
father's dominions of Austria. Eng- 
land's real object in this war was to 
maintain the strength of Austria, in 
order to hold the power of France in 
check. During this war the famous 
battles of Dettingen and Fontenoy 
were fought. 

War of the Spanish Succession: 
a war undertaken in 1702 by Eng- 
land (with her allies, Germany, Hol- 
land and Portugal) against France and 
Spain. The object of the war was to 
prevent Louis XIV. of France from 
uniting the crowns of France and 
Spain, which would have given him 
a controlling influence in European 
affairs, and also to compel him to 
recognize the existing Protestant gov- 
ernment of England. 

Whig: in England, originally one of 
a political party that endeavored to 
restrict the power of the king and ex- 
tend that of the people. In the Ameri- 



GLOSSARY. 



591 



can colonies, after the Declaration of 
Independence, one who favored that 
measure. 

Wing of an army : one of the exten- 
sive divisions of an army, as the right 
or left wing. 

Wire-puller: a politician -who oper- 
ates by secret or underhand means. 

Yager (yaw-ger, literally, a huntsman) : 



originally a member of certain Ger- 
man regiments of light infantry or 
foot-soldiers; any light-armed foot- 
soldiers carrying a rifle. 

Yeoman : i. a small farmer, a country- 
man ; 2. a volunteer soldier. 

Yeomanry: i. the collective body 
of yeomen ; 2. a volunteer military 
force. 

Youghiogheny (y5h-ho-ga'nee). 



INDEX, 



Abolitionists, 543, 551. 

Ackland, Maj., at Saratoga, 317; made 
prisoner, 318. 

Adams, C. F., 550. 

Adams, John, 140; proposes Wash- 
ington for commander-in-chief, 156; 
on committee to confer with Lord 
Howe, 220 ; vice-president, 504 ; pres- 
ident, 153 ; prevents war with France, 

515. 
Adams, J. Q., his defection from the 

Federalist party, 528 ; president, 540 ; 

prepares the way for emancipation of 

slaves, 543, 569. 
Adams, Samuel, 140, 158. 
Alabama, 537. 

Alabama and Kearsarge, 573. 
Alamance creek, 449. 
Alaska, 546. 
Albany, panic at, 283; New York line 

of the Continental army in winter 

quarters at, 421. 
AHen laws, 515. 
Algonquin Indians, lo. 
AUeghanies, 250. 
Alleghany mountains, their people loyal 

to the Union, 561. 
Allen, Ethan, 153 ; at Ticonderoga, 153, 

154 ; before Montreal, 178 ; made 

prisoner, 179. 
America, discovery and colonization 

of, I ; true position of, determined by 

Magellan's voyage, 7. 
American history, the year 1609 in, 24. 
Amerigo Vespucci : see Vespucci, Amer- 
igo. 



Amherst, Gen.^ expedition of, against 
Ticonderoga, 117; to Montreal, 124. 

Andr6, -M37'. John, sketch of, 401, 402; 
dealings with Arnold, 402-405 ; inter- 
view with Arnold, 404; his dangerous 
journey within the American lines, 
405-407; his capture, 407-409; ad- 
dresses an explanatory letter to Wash- 
ington, 410, 411 ; brought to the Rob- 
inson house, 416; board of officers 
convened for his trial, 417; his trial 
and conviction, 417 ; execution, 419. 

Andros, Sir Edmund, tyranny of, 44, 45. 

Angles, I. 

Annapolis, battle at, 21. 

Antietam, battle of, 567. 

Anti-Federalists, 511. 

Anti-Nebraska men, 553. 

Appomattox, 575. 

Arbuthnot, Admiral, 370, 382; his 
squadron passes Fort Moultrie, 384. 

Area of United States before 1803, and 
of Louisiana purchase, 524. 

Argus and Pelicaft, 531. 

Arkansas, 539, 547. 

Armada, defeat of the, 12. 

Armstrong, Ge?t., 306, 327, 498 ; at 
Chadd's Ford, 302. 

Arnold, Benedict, 237 ; in Ticonderoga 
expedition, 153 ; commander of Ken- 
nebec river expedition, 176; report 
from the Kennebec, 180 ; his march 
through the wilderness to Canada, 
184-187; lands at Cape Diamond, 
188 ; defections in his command, 193 ; 
wounded, 196 ; his bravery at Quebec, 



594 



INDEX. 



198; his retreat from Quebec, 204, 
205 ; his exploits on Lake Champlain, 
238-242 ; his valiant conduct at Dan- 
bury, 276; appointed major-general, 
276; Washington's praise of, 284; 
sent to reinforce Schuyler at Fort Ed- 
ward, 284 ; marches to relief of Fort 
Stanwix, 292 ; account of his march to 
Fort Stanwix, 295-297 ; in command 
of the left wing of the Northern army, 
310 ; successfully opposes Burgoyne's 
right wing, 312, 313 ; indignant with 
Gates for his failure to send reinforce- 
ments, 313 ; stormy interview with 
Gates, 314; furiously charges the en- 
emy at Saratoga, 318, 319; placed in 
command of Philadelphia, 342; his 
life at Philadelphia, 370-379 ; his ac- 
counts questioned, 372; in disfavor 
with Congress, 373; charges against 
him, 374; Congress examines the 
complaints of his military government, 
375 ; marries Miss Shippen, 376 ; Con- 
gress orders a military court of inquiry 
upon his case, 376; tried by court- 
martial, 378; reprimanded, 378; ex- 
cuses himself from duty in the field, 
389 ; appointed commander of West 
Point, 390; his treason, 399-411 ; in 
charge of West Point, 400 ; his inter- 
view with Andre, 404; negotiations 
with Andr6, 402-405 ; his flight, 411- 
415 ; receives news of Andr6's capture 
while at breakfast with Col. Hamilton 
and Major McHenry, 412 ; his escape, 
412-415 ; discloses his crime to his 
wife, 413; his letter to Washington 
from the British lines, 415 ; addresses 
the American people seeking to vindi- 
cate his conduct, 420 ; made brigadier- 
general in the British army, 420 ; issues 
a proclamation holding out induce- 
ments to deserters from the Continen- 
tal army, 421 ; invades Virginia, 433 ; 
yields command of British troops in 
Virginia to Cornwallis, 457 ; heads a 
depredatory expedition against New 



London, 464; fires the town of New 
London, 464, 465. 

Arnold, Mrs., notice of, 412; prostrated 
by her husband's confession, 413 ; dis- 
tressed condition, 416; kindly treated 
by Washington, 416. 

Association acts, 141, 142. 

Assunpink creek, 258, 266, 502. 

Assumption of state-debts, 509. 

Atlanta, captured by Sherman, 573. 

Atlee, Col., 210 ; taken prisoner, 213. 

Augusta, Georgia, 356. 

Auvergne, regiment of, 480. 

Bacon's rebellion, 22, 23, 

Balboa, Vasco Nunez de, 6. 

Balcarras, Lord, 317. 

Baltimore, Lord : see Calvert. 

Bahimore mob fires on Massachusetts 
troops, 560. 

Bancroft, George, 543. 

Bank of United States, 541, 545. 

Banks, Gen. N. P., 566. 

Barbary pirates, 525. 

Barbour, Maj., 480. 

Baum, Lieut.-Col., 292; advances on 
Bennington, 293; his detachment 
taken prisoners, 294 ; death, 295. 

Baxter, Col., 243. 

Beall, Gen., 232. 

Beattie's ford, 443. 

Beaujeu, Capt., 94. 

Beauregard, Gen. G. T., 561. 

Beaver Dam creek, 473. 

Bedford Hills, 209. 

Bedford, L.L, 210. 

Bell, John, 557. 

Bemis' Heights, fortifications on, 310; 
American army on, 310, 311. 

Bennington, Vt., battle of, 292-295. 

Benton, T. H., 540, 546, 550. 

Berkeley, Sir William, appointed gov- 
ernor of Virginia, 18 ; deposed, 21 ; 
Virginia under his rule, 21. 

Berlin and Milan decrees, 526. 

Biglow Papers, 549. 

Birmingham, Pa., 303. 



INDEX. 



.S95 



Birney, J. G., 547. 

Black Hunter, 73. 

Black Republicans, 554. 

Bland, Col., 303. 

Blockade of Southern coast, 562. 

Bloomingdale, 222. 

Blue laws of Connecticut, 36. 

Bordentown, N.J., 264. 

Border states, secession of, 561. 

Boston, building forts in the harbor in 
1636, 32 ; Quakers in, 38 ; announce- 
ment in, of the accession of William 
and Mary, 45 ; collisions between the 
inhabitants and the customs officers, 
135 ; massacre in, 136 ; parliamentary 
acts, adverse to, 137, 138 ; the harbor 
closed, 139; cannon placed on the 
Common and the Neck, 142; fortified, 
142; siege, 157, 198; depredations of 
British troops in, 203 ; evacuation of, 
203, 204 ; selectmen of, send message 
to Washington, 203. 

Boston massacre, 136. 

Boston port bill, 137; the measures of 
the, considered in Virginia Assembly, 
138 ; effect of the, throughout the 
colonies, 140. 

Boston tea-party, 136. 

Bottle Hill, signals on, 357. 

Bouquet, Col., no. 

Bouquet's expedition, 110-116. 

Bouquet river, 276. 

Boyd's Ferry, 447. 

Braddock, Gen., expedition of, 68-96; 
plan of operations, 71-72,', ambushed, 
87-90 ; death of, 93. 

Braddock's defeat, 87-92 ; French force 
at, 94. 

Braddock's march over the mountains, 
79. 86. 

Bragg, Gen. Braxton, 568, 571, 572. 

Brandywine, battle of the, 298-307; 
losses at, 306. 

Brandywine creek, 301. 

Brant, Joseph, Indian chief, 352. 

Breckenridge, John, 556. 

Breed's Hill fortified, 160. 



Breyman, Lieut.-Col., killed, 320, 

British, disappointment of, at results of 
campaign of 1776, 274 ; plan of cam- 
paign of 1777, 274 ; losses at Guilford 
court-house, 454. 

British depredations on the coast of 
New England, 181. 

British fisheries, supplies prohibited to, 

155- 
British fleet at Staten Island, 216. 
British troops fired upon at Concord, 

ISO- 
Broad river, 432, 439. 

Brock, Gen., takes Detroit, 532. 

Bromfield, Maj., 465. 

Bronx river, 228. 

Brooklyn, defences of,' 208. 

Brooklyn Heights, 221. 

Brooks, Lieut.-Col., 319. 

Brooks, Preston, assaults Charles Sum- 
ner, 554. 

Brougham, Lord, on character of George 
Washington, 522. 

Brown, Gen. Jacob, 533. 

Brown, John, 556. 

Brown, Maj., 193, 194; captures Ti- 
conderoga, 313,314; his detachment 
threatens Diamond Island, 315. 

Brown, Lieut.-Col., 385. 

Brunswick, N.J., 248, 249, 251. 

Bryant, W. C, 543. 

Buchanan, James, president, 554; his 
feeble attitude toward the secession- 
ists, 560. 

Buell, Ge7t. D. C, 564, 568. 

Buena Vista, battle of, 549. 

Buford, Col., his militia vanquished by 
Tarleton, 386. 

Bull Run, first battle of, 561 ; second 
battle of, 567. 

Bunbury, Sir Henry, 144. 

Bunker Hill, battle of, 157-165. 

Burnside, Gen., 567, 570. 

Burgoyne, Geii. John, account of, 169, 
170; heads expedition against Ti- 
conderoga, 274 ; e7i route for Ticon- 
deroga, 276 ; orders pursuit of the 



596 



INDEX. 



retreating Americans, 281 ; his prog- 
ress toward the Hudson, 287; en- 
counters unexpected obstacles, 287 ; 
his troops suffer reverses, 288-292, 
295-297 ; effect of his discomfiture 
on the Americans, 297; encamps at 
Fish creek, 310; advances on Bemis' 
Heights, 311, 312; strengthens his 
position, 313 ; Clinton's efforts to re- 
inforce him, 314-316; perilous situa- 
tion at Saratoga, 314; hemmed in, 
315; moves on the American line, 
316-320; forced to retreat, 319; halts 
at Fish Kill, 320, 321 ; surrender of, 
320-325 ; terms of capitulation, 323, 
324; meeting between Schuyler and 
Burgoyne, 324 ; scenes of the surren- 
der, 324; effect of his capture in 
Europe, 339. 

Burlington, N.J,, deserted, 264. 

Burr, Aaron, 176 ; vice-president, 523 ; 
defeated in attempt to secure governor- 
ship of New York, 525 ; kills Hamil- 
ton in a duel, 526. 

Bush, Crean, 203. 

Bush river, 460. 

Bushnell's machine for submarine ex- 
plosion, 226. 

Butler, Col. John, 352, 353, 451. 

Butler, Col. Zebulon, takes command of 
volunteer forces for defence of the 
Wyoming valley, 353, 354. 

Butler's Rangers, 352. 

Byron, Admiral, his fleet sails for Bos- 
ton, to entrap D'Estaing, 354 ; driven 
out to sea, 354. 

Cabot, John and Sebastian, voyages of, 4. 

Cadwalader, Gen. John, strong defence 
of, at Fort Washington, 244, 245 ; as- 
signed to an important post at Bristol, 
255 ; at Trenton, 258 ; unable to effect 
a junction with Washington, 264 ; ad- 
vises attacking Clinton's army, 341. 

Cadwalader, Lambert, 243. 

Calhoun, J. C, 529, 546, 552. 

California, 548, 550. 



Calvert, Benedict Leonard, fourth baron 
Baltimore, 21. 

Calvert, George, Lord Baltimore, ar- 
rives in Virginia and explores Chesa- 
peake bay, 19. 

Calvinists, 28. 

Camden, S.C., battle of, 390-399 ; evac- 
uation of, 460; Greene before, 459; 
Lord Rawdon at, 458, 459. 

Campaigns of 1758, 106, 107. 

Campbell, Lieut.-Col., John, with British 
troops sails for Georgia, 355 ; his suc- 
cesses in Georgia, 356. 

Campbell, Col. Richard, at the battle of 
Eutaw Springs, 475, 476. 

Campbell, Col. William, commands the 
militia at King's Mountain, 424-426. 

Canada, campaign against, 102-124; 
conquest of, 116-124; Arnold's expe- 
dition to, by way of Kennebec river, 
175 ; invasion of, 173-198 ; the retreat 
from, 204, 205. 

Cape Diamond, 193. 

Capital city, federal, site of, 510. 

Captain Jack, Indian chief, offers his 
services to Braddock, 81. 

Carleton, Sir Guy, fortifies St. John, 
Canada, 173 ; escapes from Montreal, 
187 ; his flight to Quebec, 190 ; his 
unpopularity in Canada, 190 ; at Que- 
bec, 197 ; heads expedition against 
the American posts on Lake Cham- 
plain, 237; his operations on Lake 
Champlain, 238-242 ; captures Crown 
Point, 241 ; returns to Canada, 242 ; 
supersedes Sir Henry Clinton, 484; 
evacuates New York, 487. 

Carleton, 240. 

Carolinas, settlement, etc., 46-48 ; char- 
acter of the settlers, 47. 

Cartier, Jacques, 7, 8. 

Cass, Lewis, 550. 

Caswell, Gen., 393, 397. 

Catawba river, 422, 440; Greene's 
militia dispersed at the, 444. 

Chadd's Ford, 301, 302. 

Champlain, Samuel de, voyages of, 9, 10. 



INDEX. 



597 



Champlain, Lake, 276, 
Chancellorsville, battle of, 570, 
Charleston, S.C., battle of Fort Moul- 
trie, 206, 207; attack on, 207; fall of, 

379-387- 

Charlotte, N.C., American army at, 432- 
434 ; Cornwallis takes post at, 422. 

Charm, 479. 

Chase, Samuel, impeachment of, 523. 

Chase, S. P., 552. 

Chastellux, Ge^i., 468. 

Chattanooga, 564, 568, 571 ; battle of, 572. 

Chatterton's Hill, 230; captured by the 
British, 231. 

Chaudi^re settlements, 186. 

Cheeseman, Capt., 194. 

Cheney,Thomas, gives warning to Wash- 
ington of his perilous position at the 
Brandywine, 303. 

Cherokee ford, 439. 

Chesapeake and Sha?inon, 531. 

Chester, Penn., 306, 332; Washington 
at, 467. 

Chew mansion, 326, 328. 

Chickamauga, battle of, 571. 

Chippewa, battle of, 533. 

Choctaw Indians, 10. 

Christison, Wenlock, 39. 

Clark and Lewis, expedition to Oregon, 
525, 546. 

Clayborne, William, his claim to Kent 
Island, 20; invades Maryland, 20. 

Clay, Henry, speaker of house, 529; 
Missouri compromise, 538 ; candidate 
for presidency, 540, 549; American 
system, 541 ; compromise of 1850, 
551 ; death, 552. 

Clermont, S.C, American camp at, 394- 
396. 

Cleveland, Col., 425. 

Clinton, De Witt, 529. 

Clinton, Gov. George, on the condition 
of the army, 233, 297 ; captures a spy, 
315; Washington and, enter New 
York City after the evacuation, 487; 
vice-president, 525. 

Clinton, Sir Henry, at Bunker Hill, 164; 



notice of his career, 169 ; in South Car- 
olina, 206; turns the American left 
at Long Island, 212; success of his 
night march for flanking the rear of 
the American troops, 215 ; in com- 
mand of the right wing at White 
Plains, 230; his efforts to reinforce 
Burgoyne, 314 ; captures forts on the 
Hudson, 315; sends message to Bur- 
goyne announcing his successes and 
rapid advance up the Hudson, 323; 
supersedes Lord Howe, 341 ; evacu- 
ates Philadelphia, 342; takes line of 
march to Sandy Hook, 342 ; encamps 
at Monmouth Court-house, 343; re- 
treats at night from Monmouth, 348 ; 
reaches the Navasink, 349 ; predatory 
warfare conducted by him, 360 ; leads 
another expedition up the Hudson, 
361 ; holds a conference with Admiral 
Collier, 363; hastens to the defence 
of the Hudson, 367; retakes Stony 
Point, 367 ; returns to Philipsburg, 
368 ; sails for South Carolina, 380 ; 
operations at Charleston and vicinity, 
381-387; plans expedition against 
Newport, 388, 389; in correspondence 
with Arnold, 400 ; his efforts to save 
Andr6, 417; rejects proposition to 
deliver up Arnold for the release of 
Andre, 418 ; sends expedition against 
New London, 464; goes tardily to 
Cornwallis' assistance, 483. 

Clinton, Gen. James, in Sullivan's expe- 
dition, 359. 

Closter Dock, 247. 

Cold Harbor, battle of, 572. 

Collier, Sir George, 360, 361, 362. 

Columbus, voyages of, 3. 

Committee of Safety of Massachusetts, 

143. 

Compromise tariff, 542. 

Concord, military stores at, 143 ; Gen. 
Gage sends troops to, 149; destruc- 
tion of the military stores, 150 ; British 
retreat from, 150. 

Confederation, Articles of, 434, 492. 



598 



INDEX. 



Congress, 239, 240. 

Congress : see Continental Congress. 

Connecticut, colony of, 34, 35 ; the Pe- 
quot war in, 35 ; charter of, 39, 40. 

Connecticut, British raid in, 362. 

Constitution captures Guerriere and 
Java, 530; captures Cyane and Le- 
vant, 531. 

Constitution, the Federal, 492-499 ; rati- 
fication of, 498, 499. 

Continental army, besieges Boston, 155 ; 
composition of the, 158, 159 ; distribu- 
tion of the troops of the, around Bos- 
ton, 170, 171 ; difficulties in re-enlist- 
ments, 184; retreat at Long Island, 
212; slaughter among the troops at 
Long Island, 212 ; position of the, on 
the Hudson, 228, 229; condition of, 
at White Plains, 233 ; driven by Corn- 
wallis, 304; marches to Warwick, 
Penn., 307; retreats from German- 
town, 330; distressing condition of 
the, at Valley Forge, 332-336; can- 
tonment of, in Delaware, 356 ; in win- 
ter quarters at Morristown, 421 ; dis- 
affection in the, 433, 434 ; numerical 
strength of, before Yorktown, 474; 
discontent in regard to pay, 484; 
reduced to a peace basis, 487. 

Continental congress, propositions for a, 
in the Virginia Assembly, 139; first 
congress assembles, 141 ; second con- 
gress at Philadelphia, 154 ; orders the 
enlistment of troops, 155 ; issues cur- 
rency notes, 155 ; action of the, on 
Lord Howe's peace overtures, 220; 
driven from Philadelphia, 306; dis- 
sensions in, 357 ; scene in, on Wash- 
ington's resigning his command, 490, 
491. 

Continental currency, 371. 

Conway, Gen., at Germantown, 327- 

329- 
Conway cabal, 338, 339. 
Cooper, J. F,, 543. 
Copperheads, 559. 
Copp's Hill, battery at, 160. 



Corinth, battle of, 568. 

Cornwallis, Lord, notice of, 206, 207 ; 
attacked by Lord Stirling, 213 ; in the 
attack on Fort Washington, 244; 
crosses the Hudson, 247 ; in pursuh 
of Washington in New Jersey, 248 ; 
at the Delaware, 251 ; takes command 
in New Jersey, 266 ; arrives at Tren- 
ton, 267; outwitted, 272; takes post 
at New Brunswick and Amboy, N.J., 
273 ; attacks the American line at 
the Brandywine, 304; arrives on the 
field at Germantown, 330; at Mon- 
mouth, 343 ; accompanies CHnton to 
Charleston, 370 ; invades North Caro- 
lina, 385-387 ; at Camden, 422; takes 
post at Charlotte, N.C., 422; desists 
from further advance in North Caro- 
Hna, 427 ; turns back to South Caro- 
lina, 427, 428; dispatches Tarleton 
against Morgan, 435 ; opens the cam- 
paign of 1781, 435; sends a force to 
overtake Morgan and avenge Tarle- 
ton's defeat, 440 ; unloads his baggage 
for a vigorous march in pursuit of 
Greene, 441 ; crosses the Catawba, 
444 ; gives up the pursuit of Greene, 
448 ; takes post at Hillsborough, 449 ; 
sets out to engage Greene at Guilford 
Court-house, 451 ; discomfiture of, 
454; his losses, 454; awkwardness of 
his position in North Carolina, 456; 
takes up the line of march to join 
Arnold in Virginia, 456, 457; Lafay- 
ette and Cornwallis in Virginia, 457, 
458 ; takes post at Yorktown, 458 ; 
Washington's march against, 462-468 ; 
his operations at Yorktown, 466; 
drawn into a trap, 468-474 ; strength- 
ens his works, 469; hopes for rein- 
forcements, 473; withdraws from his 
outworks, 473 ; surrender of, 478-483 ; 
his desperate situation, 481 ; attempts 
to escape, 481 ; capitulates, 482 ; num- 
ber of troops in his command at the 
surrender, 483 ; paroled, 484. 

Cotton is king, 559. 



INDEX. 



599 



Cotton-gin, 537. 

Cowpens, battle of the, 434-440. 

Craik, Dr., 520. 

Crawford, W. H., 529, 540. 

Creek Indians, 10. 

Creek war, 534. 

Cross creek, 454. 

Crown Point, 238, 240, 276 ;. Arnold de- 
stroys the works at, 241. 

Cruger, Col., 460, 461. 

Cuba, its annexation desired by the 
southern slaveholders, 552. 

Cumberland Head, 239. 

Curtis, B. R., 555. 

Curtis, Ge7i. S. R., 563. 

Cushing, Mrs., 143. 

Cuyler, Yan Yost, a runner for Arnold, 
295, 296. 

Dakotah Indians, 10. 

Dale, Sir Thomas, governor of James- 
town, 15. 

Dallas, battle of, 573. 

Dan river, 446 ; 

Danbury, Conn,, British attack on, 276. 

Davidson, Gen., 443 ; death of, 444. 

Davie, Gen., 459, 

Davis, Jefferson, 552, 560. 

Deane, Silas, signstreaty with France, 340. 

Debts, public, Hamilton's measures for 
paying, 509. 

Declaration of Independence, 205. 

Declaration of rights, 141. 

Deep river, 455. 

Deerfield, Indian attack on, 42; massa- 
cre in 1704, 51. 

Defensive lines of the Confederacy, 563, 

564- 

De Kalb, Baron, 285; operations at 
Camden, 395, 396; in North Caro- 
lina, 393; ordered to reinforce Gen. 
Lincoln, 383 ; wounded, 396. 

Delaware, Lord, appointed governor of 
Virginia, 14 ; arrives at Jamestown, 15. 

Delaware river, Washington's efforts 
to prevent the enemy crossing the, 
248 ; obstructions on the, 325. 



Democratic party, rise of, 512, 540; 
change in its character, 548 ; conduct 
in Civil War, 559. 

D'Estaing, Count, arrival of the French 
fleet under, 350, 351 ; mishap to his 
fleet, 351, 352; sets sail for the West 
Indies, 354; displeases the Ameri- 
cans, 354, 355 ; on the coast of Geor- 
gia, 368 ; co-operates with Gen. Lin- 
coln at Savannah, 369; departs for 
France, 370. 

Detroit surrendered by Gen. Hull, 532. 

Diamond Island, 315. 

Digby, Adfuiral, 471. 

Dighton rock inscription, 3. 

Dilworth, Pa., 304, 306. 

Dinwiddle, Gov., appoints Washington 
the leader of an expedition against 
the Indians, 65. 

Disbandment of the army, 486, 487. 

Dobbs' Ferry, 234, 235, 367, 403. 

Doniphan, Gen. A, W., 549. 

Donop, Coimt, 263. 

Dorchester Heights, fortified, 199 ; occu- 
pation of, 200 ; storming of, 202. 

Doughfaces, 551. 

Douglas, S. A., 553, 556. 

Dunmore, Lord, bombards Norfolk, 206. 

Dundas, Lietit.-Col., 472. 

Dunderberg river, 365. 

Early, Gen. Jubal, 574. 

East Chester bay, 229. 

East river, 222. 

Eaton, Ge7t., 451. 

Edisto river, 474. 

Elizabethtown Point, 502. 

Elkton, Pa., 299, 300. 

Emancipation of the slaves, 569. 

Embargo, 526. 

Emerson, R. W., 543. 

Enos, Col., 185. 

Enterprise and Boxer, 531. 

Ericsson, John, 542, 565. 

Ericsson, Leif, 2. 

Erie canal, 539. 

Erskine, Sir William, 267. 



600 



INDEX. 



Essex captures Alert, 530 ; captured by 
Phcebe and Cherub, 531. 

Eutaw Springs, battle of, 474, 478. 

Ewell, Gen., 561. 

Ewing, Gen., 258, 262 ; failure of, to join 
Washington's attack on Trenton, 263. 

Explorers, English, in the sixteenth cen- 
tury, 12. 

Eyre, Col., killed at Fort Griswold, 465. 

Fair Oaks, battle of, 566. 

Fairfax, Lord William, 60, 62. 

Fairfield, Conn., British raid, 363. 

Falmouth, burning of, 180-182. 

Faneuil Hall, 140. 

Farragut, Admiral D. G., 564, 573. 

Fauquier, Francis, governor of Vir- 
ginia, 106. 

Federal constitution, 492-499. 

Federal convention, 497, 498. 

Federalist party, rise of, 511; defeat of, 
522; opposed to the war with Great 
Britain, 529 ; ruined by Hartford con- 
vention, 534. 

Fellows, Gen., 320; batteries, 322; pre- 
vents Burgoyne's crossing the Hud- 
son, 321. 

Ferguson, Maj. Patrick, sent on expedi- 
tion to North Carolina, 422; intimi- 
dated by the assembling militia from 
the mountains of Georgia and North 
Carolina, 423 ; pursued by the militia, 
424-426 ; death of, 426. 

Fifty-four-forty-or-fight, 546. 

Filibusters, 552. 

Fillmore, Millard, 551, 554. 

Fish Kill, Burgoyne's army near the, 
321, 322. 

Five Forks, battle of, 575. 

Five Nations, their characteristics, 11. 

Flatbush, L.I., 208. 

Fleury, Col., 366. 

Florida, bought by United States, 536. 

Florida, Huguenot settlement in, 8 ; de- 
struction of, 8. 

Fordham Heights, 242. 

Forest, Capt., 261. 



Forman's Jersey brigade, 327, 330. 

Fort Castle William, 202; Fort Consti- 
tution, 236; Fort Cumberland, 67, 76, 
77; Fort Defiance, 280, 281; Fort 
Donelson, 563 ; Fort Duquesne, 66; 
attack on, 85; capture of, no; Fort 
Erie, battle of, 533; Fort Griswold, 
464 ; assault and capture of, 465 ; Fort 
Henry, 563; Fort Independence, 314; 
evacuation of, 325; Fort Johnston, 
382 ; Fort Lafayette, surrender of the 
garrison of, 361 ; Fort Lee, 235, 246 ; 
Fort Mercer, 331 ; Fort Mifflin, 325, 
331; Fort Mimms, massacre at, 534; 
Fort Montgomery, 236, 315, 316 ; Fort 
Motte, capture of, 460 ; Fort Moultrie, 
382 ; battle of, 206, 207 ; surrender, 385 ; 
Fort Necessity, 67; Fort Niagara, 
capture of, 117; Fort Ninety-six, be- 
sieged, 460; Fort Stanwix, 288; Fort 
Sumter, 560 ; Fort Trumbull, 464, 465 ; 
Fort Washington, 226; location of, 
224 ; retained by the Americans, 228 ; 
in danger, 234-237 ; fall of, 237-246 ; 
surrender of its garrison, 246; Fort 
Watson, 459; Fort William Henry, 
surrendered to Montcalm, 104, 105; 
Fort Wintermoot, 352, 353; Forty 
Fort, 354. 

France, treaty with, 340. 

Francis, Col., death of, 282. 

Franklin, battle of, 573. 

Franklin, Benjamin, dealings with Brad- 
dock, 74, 75 ; has an interview with 
Lord Howe relative to peace, 220, 
221 ; signs treaty with France, 340. 

Frazer, Gen., 282, 312, 316, 318 ; killed, 

319- 
Fraunces' Tavern, 488. 
Fredericksburg, battle of, 570. 
Free-Soil party, 550. 
Free-trade between the states, 508, 
Freehold, N.J., 342; heights of, 344. 
Fremont, Gen. J. C, 554, 566, 574. 
French alliance, 339,340; effect of the, 

357. 358. 
French allies, 387, 388. 



INDEX. 



601 



French and Indian war, 50, 51. 

French creek, 307. 

French encroachments on the Ohio, 66. 

French fleet in Rhode Island, 350, 351. 

French frigates destroyed by Capt. 
Truxton, 514. 

French pioneers, 7. 

French Revolution, its influence upon 
American politics, 512. 

French war, 68-124. 

Frontenac, Count, chastises the Iro- 
quois, 50. 

Frontier posts, held by Great Britain in 
disregard of treaty, 513. 

Fulton, Robert, 537. 

Fur traders, French, 10. 

Gage, Thomas, Gen., in Braddock's ex- 
pedition, 85, 86; appointed to mili- 
tary command of Massachusetts, 139 ; 
his action relative to assemblages in 
Boston, 140; his opinion of the peo- 
ple of Boston, 140; countermands 
writ for an assembly election, 143 ; 
sends troops to Concord, 149 ; issues 
a proclamation against the rebels^ 
157, 158 ; orders an attack on the for- 
tifications on Breed's Hill, 161 ; sails 
for England, 182. 

Galveston, 503. 

Gam a, Vasco de, voyage of, 3. 

Gansevoort, Col., 295; in command of 
Fort Stanwix, 288, 289. 

Garrison, W. L., 543. 

Gates, Gen. Horatio, 342; career of, 
146, 147 ; receives an appointment in 
the Continental army, 157 ; on Lake 
Champlain, 237 ; his march fi-om the 
Hudson to unite forces with Washing- 
ton, 251 ; joins Washington at the Del- 
aware, 255, 256 ; his conduct towards 
Washington, 257 ; intrigues of, 275 ; 
supersedes Gen. Schuyler, 297, 298; 
at Bemis' Heights, 311, 312; rejects 
Arnold's proposal to attack Burgoyne, 
313; his jealousy of Arnold, 314; his 
operations at the battle of Saratoga, 



317-320; Burgoyne surrenders to 
him, 323-325 ; interview with Bur- 
goyne, 324; his popularity, 331; his 
insubordinate conduct, 331 ; weakness 
of his character, 338 ; plots against 
Washington, 338 ; appointed to com- 
mand of the Southern army, 387 ; his 
journey South, 391; takes command 
in the South, 393; orders advance on 
Camden, 393, 394; his forces routed, 
395. 396 ; makes a stand at Hills- 
borough, 398, 399; court of inquiry 
ordered to investigate his manage- 
ment of the Southern department, 421 ; 
collects his shattered forces at Hills- 
borough, 430; superseded by Gen. 
Greene, 431 ; his downfall, 431. 

Gates, Sir Thomas, shipwrecked on the 
Bermudas, 14; arrives at Jamestown, 14. 

Gatinais, regiment of, 479. 

Genesee river, 359. 

Genet, " citizen," 512. 

Georgia, settlement of, 52; the British 
conquer, 354-356. 

Germaine, Lord George, announces the 
surrender of Yorktown to Lord North, 

483. 

German troops, employment of, 205, 206. 

Germantown, battle of, 325-331; de- 
scription of, 326 ; effect of the battle 
of, 331. 

Gettysburg, battle of, 570. 

Gilbert Town, militia at, 424. 

Gloucester, Va., fortifications at, 472; 
Yorktown and, 479; surrender of, 482. 

Glover, Col., 259. 

Glover's, Col., Massachusetts regiment, 
216, 217 ; brigade, 310. 

Gold, discovery of, in California, 550. 

Gooch, Capt., bearer of message to gar- 
rison at Fort Washington, 246. 

Good feeling, era of, 535. 

Gorges, Sir Ferdinando, 27. 

Gosnold, Bartholomew, voyage, 27. 

Gourgues, Dominique de, 8. 

Governor's island, 223. 

Gowanus cove, 210. 



602 



INDEX. 



Granby, S.C., Lee captures, 460. 

Grant, Col., 148. 

Grant, Gen. James, 209, 325, 355. 

Grant, Gen. U. S., 563-575- 

Grasse, Count de, dispatches received 
from, 462; arrival of the French fleet 
under the, 467 ; his fleet at the mouth 
of York river, 468 ; urges immediate 
attack on Cornwallis at Yorktown, 469 ; 
encounters British fleet under Ad- 
miral Graves, 469, 470; interview 
with Washington, 479 ; his operations 
at Yorktown, 482; sails for France, 

483. 

Graves, Admiral, 388; offers battle to 
Count de Grasse, 470 ; his fleet sails 
for New York, 471. 

Grayson's regiment, 345. 

Great Britain, feeling toward United 
States after revolutionary war, 508; 
unwilling to recognize Southern Con- 
federacy, 559. 

Great Meadows, Braddock in the, 83, 84. 

Green Mountain boys, 153, 177. 

Greene, Gen. Nathanael, 158, 266, 299 ; 
notice of, 171; in favor of holding 
Fort Washington, 235 ; at Fort Wash- 
ington, 242, 243; at Fort Lee, 246; ad- 
vises defence of the Delaware, 248; 
his division at Chadd's Ford, 301; 
covers the retreat at the Brandywine, 
305 ; his proceedings at Germantown, 
327-330; recommends an attack on 
Sir Henry Clinton immediately after 
the battle at Germantown, 341; at 
Monmouth Court-house, 344, 347; 
character of, 387 ; Washington recom- 
mends him for the Southern com- 
mand, 387 ; in command of the army 
at Tappan in Washington's absence, 
415; notified to make preparations 
for the reception of the prisoner 
Andr6, 416; president of the board 
of officers to try Andre, 417; given 
the command in the South, 422; as- 
sumes the command of the Southern 
army, 430-434 ; reorganizes the troops, 



432 ; takes post at Hicks' creek, 432 ; 
his masterly retreat before Cornwallis, 
441-447 ; joins Gen. Morgan after a 
hard ride of 100 miles, 442; hard- 
ships of his journey, 445 ; his plans 
to defeat Cornwallis, 446 ; crosses the 
Dan pursued by Cornwallis, 447; 
sends Lee to intercept Cornwallis, 
448; recrosses the Dan and enters 
North Carolina, 449 ; in North Caro- 
lina, 450 ; encamps at Guilford, 450 ; 
prepares for an engagement at Guil- 
ford Court-house, 451 ; orders a re- 
treat, 453 ; keeps in Cornwallis' tracks 
to Deep river, 455 ; determines to 
carry the war into South Carolina, 455 ; 
Green and Rawdon in South Caro- 
lina, 458-462; besieges Fort Ninety- 
Six, 460; encamps on the high hills 
of the Santee, 461 ; the success of his 
Southern campaign, 461, 462; breaks 
camp at the Santee hills, 474 ; gains a 
victory at Eutaw Springs, 474-478. 

Grey, Gen., 330. 

Griffin, Col, 258. 

Guichen, Comit de, 388, 411. 

Guilford Court-house, 446; battle of, 
448-454. 

Hackensack, American army at the, 247. 

Hail Columbia, 514. 

Hale, J. P., 552. 

Halifax, N.C., 448. 

Hall, Cc?/., crosses the Catawba river, 444. 

Halleck, Gen. H. W., 564-572. 

Hamilton, Alexander, attracts Wash- 
ington's notice, 224 ; captain of artil- 
lery, 231 ; opens the message an- 
nouncing Andre's capture, 414; sets 
off in pursuit of Arnold, 414 ; leads a 
charge on the British redoubts at 
Yorktown, 480; at Washington's in- 
auguration, 505 ; his financial meas- 
ures, 509 ; bargain with Jefferson, 510 ; 
stoned on the street, 513; tries to 
divert votes from Adams, 522 ; killed 
by Aaron Burr, 526. 



INDEX. 



603 



Hampton, Col. Wade, at the battle of 
Eutaw Springs, 477. 

Hampton Roads, 565. 

Hancock, John, 143 ; president of Con- 
gress, 155 ; excepted in a general am- 
nesty proclaimed by Gen. Gage, 158. 

Hand, Col., 209; holds the British in 
check at Throg's Point, 227. 

Hanging Rock, N.C., post at, 392. 

Hard cider campaign, 545. 

Harlem Heights, Washington hastens 
to, 222; retreat to, 223; American 
army at, 224; British attempt the 
American line at, 225; Washington's 
headquarters at, 228. 

Harlem river, 242. 

Harmar, Gen., defeated by Indians, 511. 

Harper's Ferry, attacked by John Brown, 
556. 

Harrison, Gen. W. H., 529, 533, 545. 

Hartford convention, 535. 

Harvard, John, 32. 

Harvard University, receives an appro- 
priation of public funds, 32, 

Harvey, Sir, governor of Virginia, 18. 

Haverstraw bay, 361, 413, 464. 

Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 543. 

Head of Elk, 467, 484. 

Heath, Gen., 228, 236, 369; sketch of, 
237; appointed to the command of 
a division in the Continental army, 
228 ; in command at West Point, 463. 

Heights of Abraham, 189. 

Heister, Gen., Hessian ofificer, 209; at 
Long Island, 211, 212; at White 
Plains, 230. 

Hell Gate, 222. 

Henderson, Col., 474; at the battle of 
Eutaw Springs, 475, 476. 

Henry, Patrick, bold speech in Virginia 
convention, 148. 

Herkimer, Gen., 288 ; against his judg- 
ment, on the advice of his officers, 
advances toward Fort Stanwix, 289; 
his troops ambushed, 290; wounded, 
290 ; death of, 291. 

Herrick, Col., 293. 



Hessians, at the battle of Long Island, 
212 ; on the Delaware, 256 ; flight of, 
at Trenton, 262 ; surrender at Trenton, 
263. 

Hobkirk's Hill, battle at, 459; Gen. 
Greene at, 459. 

Holland, Puritans in, 29. 

Holmes, O. W., 543. 

Hood, Ge7i. J. B., 573, 

Hooker, Ge7i. Joseph, 570, 572. 

Hornet captures Peacock, 530 ; captures 
Penguin, 531. 

Howard, Col., at the Cowpens, 437, 
438. 

Howe, Lord, leader of the Ticonderoga 
expedition, 108 ; killed, 109. 

Howe, Lord Richard, 232; arrives in 
New York , 208 ; notice of, 208 ; as 
peacemaker, 220, 221 ; his peace 
overtures to Congress, 220, 221 ; 
issues proclamation, 249; his fleet 
puts to sea from New York, with 
troops for a movement on Philadel- 
phia, 285; anchors his fleet in the 
Chesapeake, 286; his fleet on the 
Delaware, 325 ; at Sandy Hook, 349. 

Howe, Sir William, ^^«^ra/, commands 
a detachment at Bunker Hill, 162; 
meditates a renewed attack on the 
American works, 164; wounded, 165; 
his popularity, 169 ; threatens to burn 
Boston, 202; compelled to evacuate 
Boston, 204; addresses commission- 
ers of Congress, 221 ; his operations 
about New York, 234, 235; captures 
Fort Washington, 242; in winter 
quarters at New York, 256; receives 
intelligence of the discomfiture of the 
garrison at Trenton, 266; baffled in 
his attempts on Philadelphia, 275; 
makes a landing at the head of Ches- 
apeake bay, 298 ; at the Brandywine, 
300, 301 ; inactivity of, after the battle 
of the Brandywine, 306 ; eludes Wash- 
ington on the Schuylkill, and cap- 
tures Philadelphia, 308, 309; distribu- 
tion of his forces at Philadelphia and 



604 



INDEX. 



Germantown, 325, 326; his military 
career in America comes to an end, 
340; dissatisfaction in England with 
his conduct of the campaign, 360. 

Howe, Gen. Robert, in command of 
American army in Georgia, 355, 356. 

Hubbard, Col., 293. 

Hubbardton, St. Clair's rear-guard at- 
tacked at, 282. 

Hudson, Henry, voyage of, 24. 

Hudson Highlands, defences of the, 
360; posts on the, 236, 237. 

Hudson river, British ships on the, 222 ; 
clear the barrier on the, 226 ; the ob- 
structions of the, 226. 

Huger, Gen., 445, 452. 

Hughes, CoL, impresses vessels for the 
transport of American troops in the 
retreat from Long Island, 217. 

Hull, G^«. William, unjustly condemned 
for surrendering Detroit, 532. 

Humphreys, Col., in Shays' rebellion. 

Humpton, CoL, his troops slaughtered 
at the Brandywine, 308. 

Hunters, in Braddock's expedition, 73. 

Huntington, Gen., distress of his troops, 

333- 
Hutchinson, Anne, banished from Mas- 
sachusetts, 34 ; murdered by Indians, 

34- 
Hutchinson's river, 229. 

Illinois, 537. 

Impressment of American seamen, 526. 

Inauguration of Washington, 504-506. 

Indian country in western New York 
laid waste by Gen. Sullivan, 359. 

Indian depredations in Virginia, 100-102. 

Indian frontier in 1789, 507, 539 ; war of 
1790-94, 511 ; power broken by Harri- 
son and Jackson, 537. 

Indiana, 537. 

Indians of North America, 10. 

Inflexible, 238, 260. 

Internal improvements, 541. 

Inventions, in time of Jackson's presi- 
dency, 543, 



Iowa, 550. 

Iroquois, French hostilities with the, 11. 

Irving, Washington, 543. 

luka, battle of, 568. 

Jackson, Gen. Andrew, subdues the 
Creeks, 534; defeats the British at 
New Orleans, 535; invades Florida, 
536; president, 540; puts down the 
nuUifiers, 542 ; corrupts the civil ser- 
vice, 544; his war on the United 
States bank, 545. 

Jackson, Gen. T. J., "Stonewall," 561, 
566, 570. 

Jamaica, L.I., 208. 

James I. and the London Company, 
17, 18. 

Jameson, Lieut. -Col., sends Andre's 
papers to Gen. Washington, 409 ; his 
strange conduct in regard to Andr6, 
409. 

Jamestown colony, settlement of, 13 ; 
land, system of, 15. 

Jay, John, 498 ; on the general disorder 
of public affairs under the Articles of 
Confederation, 494; his treaty, 513, 

Jefferson, Thomas, governor of Vir- 
ginia, 458; 512; vice-president, 513; 
author of Kentucky resolutions, 516; 
president, 523 ; purchases the Louis- 
iana territory of Napoleon, 524. 

Johnson, Andrew, 564. 

Johnson, Col. Guy, 167 ; incites the 
Indians to hostilities, 173; with his 
retainers and Indian followers in Can- 
ada, 174. 

Johnson, Sir John, a Tory, 167. 

Johnson, Sir William, 72, 73, 116 ; gains 
at Crown Point, 96, 98 ; his death, 167. 

Johnson's " Greens," 289, 290. 

Johnston, Gen. A. S., 563. 

Johnston, Gen. J. E., 561, 566, 572, 573, 
575- 

Kansas-Nebraska bill, 552. 
Kansas, struggle for, 554. 
Kearsarge and Alabama, 573, 



INDEX. 



605 



Kenesaw Mountain, battle of, 573. 
Kennebec river expedition, 184. 
Kent island, Clayborne's ciaim to, 20. 
Kentucky, 538, 561, 563, 
Kentucky resolutions, 516, 542. 
Kieft, y^\\X\-A.\n, governor of New York, 

26. 
King, Rufus, candidate for presidency, 

535- 
King's Bridge, N.Y., 224, 227, 235, 401, 

463. 

King's Mountain, battle of, 421-428. 

Kingston, N.J., 272, 273. 

Kingston, N.Y., burned by the British, 
316. 

Kirkwood's Delaware infantry, 477. 

Knowhon, Capt., 162. 

Knox, Gen. Henry, notice of, 183; 
brings supplies to the Continental 
army, 1,99; directs the artillery in 
crossing of the Delaware, 259 ; causes 
the attack on the Chew's House, 329; 
with Washington on the Hudson, 411 ; 
at Yorktown, 480, 481 ; bids Washing- 
ton farewell at the close of the war, 
489 ; letter in Shays' rebellion, 494 ; a 
correspondent of Washington's, 498 ; 
at the inauguration of Washington, 

505- 
Kosciusko, G^?/., fortifies Bemis' Heights, 

310. 
Knyphausen, Gen., 22g, 244, 303, 348, 

372; advances at Fort Washington, 

235 ; attempts the passage of the 

Hudson at Chadd's Ford, 304, 305 ; 

at Monmouth Court-house, 343, 344 ; 

in command of New York, 370. 

Lafayette, Marquis de, 511 ; offers his 
services to the American cause, 285, 
286 ; joins Sullivan at the Brandywine, 
304; advises attack on Gen. Clinton, 
341, 342 ; given command of the ad- 
vance corps, 342 ; yields the command 
to Gen. Lee, 343 ; Cornwallis and, in 
Virginia, 457, 458; operations against 
Cornwallis at Yorktown, 466, 467; 



appeals to Count de Grasse, not to 
withdraw his fleet from York river, 
472; his operations at the siege of 
Yorktown, 479. 

Lake Champlain, 237 ; British fleet on, 
238-241 ; encouraging prospects of 
the campaign on, 242. 

Lake George, ^z> William Johnson, 97; 
. battle at, 97, 98. 

Lamb, Capi., 177, 192, 196. 

Lamb, Col., 413. 

Lancaster road, 302. 

Langdon, President oi Harvard College, 

159. 

La Salle, Robert de, 49, 50. 

Laudonniere, Rene de, 8. 

Laurens, Col., 382. 

Lawrence, Col. John, judge-advocate- 
general at Andre's trial, 417. 

Lawson, Geft., 450, 461. 

Lear, Tobias, 519. 

Learned, Col., 203. 

Lechmere Point, fortified, 199. 

Ledyard, William, makes a stubborn 
defence of Fort Griswold, 465. 

Lee, Arthur, in France, 340. 

Lee, Gen. Charles, 207 ; career of, 144, 
145 ; temperament and characteris- 
tics, 147 ; his visits to Mount Vernon, 
147 ; given command of troops near 
King's Bridge, 227 ; criticises Wash- 
ington, 228 ; made a division com- 
mander, 228 ; reconnoitres at White 
Plains, 230 ; at Northcastle, 236 ; plots 
against Washington, 248 ; crosses the 
Hudson, 250; made prisoner, 25a- 
255 ; circumstances of his capture, 
253, 254 ; his conduct at Baskingridge, 
252; his conduct while a prisoner, 
274, 275; treasonable doings, 275; 
exchanged, 341 ; his influence in the 
army, 341 ; opposes Washington's of- 
fensive movement against Clinton, 
342 ; reinstated as the second in com- 
mand in the army, 341 ; allows Lafay- 
ette to take his place at the head of 
the advance corps, 342 ; changes his 



606 



INDEX. 



mind, 343; Washington orders him 
to make an attack on Clinton at Mon- 
mouth Court-house, 343; arrives at 
Freehold, 344; rebuked by Washing- 
ton for non-comphance with his or- 
ders, 346, 347 ; demands an apology, 
349; court-martialled and dismissed 
from the service, 350 ; his funeral, 350 ; 
his warning to Gates, 387. 

Lee, Col. Henry, 475, 495 ; notice of, 299. 

Lee, Gen. Robert Edward, 62, 299, 561, 
566, 570-575- 

Lee, Richard Henry, 206. 

Leif Ericsson, 2. 

Leopard and Chesapeake, 527. 

Leslie, Gen., 230, 231, 267; in South 
Carolina, 434, 452. 

Lewis and Clark, expedition to Oregon, 

525, 546. 

Lewis, Lawrence, 518. 

Lexington, battle of, 148-152; British 
losses at, 152. 

Liberty Tree, 140. 

Lincoln, Gen., 228, 314; sent to take 
command of the Southern department, 
356; repulsed at Savannah, 369; his 
operations at Charleston, 380-387 ; his 
surrender, 385 ; opens the first parallel 
at Yorktown, 478, 479 ; returns north- 
ward in command of the army at 
Yorktown, 484; one of Washington's 
correspondents, 498. 

Lincoln, Abraham, 543, 556, 560, 562, 

569. 574. 575- 
Literature, in Jackson's time, 543. 
Little Belt, 529. 
Livingston, Col. Brockholst, 193, 309; 

aide-de-camp to Gen. Arnold, 310 ; 
Livingston, Robert, 505. 
Livingston, William, governor of the 

Jerseys, 248. 
Lizard, frigate, 188. 
Locke, John, 47. 
Log-rolling, 510. 

London and Plymouth Company, 13. 
London Company, fall of the, 17; its 

charter annulled by James L, 18, 



Long Island, battle of, 208-220; the 
Americans retreat from, 215-219; 
secrecy of the movements of the 
Americans, 217 ; successful embarka- 
tion of the American troops, 217, 218. 

Longfellow, H. W,, 543. 

Loudon, Lord, 103-105. 

Louisburg, capture of, 51 ; restored to 
the French, 51 ; expedition to, 104 ; re- 
captured, 107, 108. 

Louisiana purchase, 524, 553. 

Louisiana, state of, 537, 542, 

Lovell, James, concerned in the Con- 
way Cabal, 338. 

Lowell, J. R., 549. 

Lundy's Lane, battle of, 533. 

Lyon, Gen. Nathaniel, 562. 

McCrea, Miss, 287. 

McClellan, Gen. G. B., 561, 562, 566, 

567. 574. 
McDougall, Gen., 230, 327; defends 

Chatterton's Hill, 231; commandant 

at West Point, 362 ; 
McDowell, Gen., at King's Mountain, 

425. 

McDowell, Gen. Irwin, 561, 566. 

McGowan's ford, 443. 

McKonkey's ferry (Taylorsville), N.J., 
258. 

McLane, Col. Allen, 328. 

McLean, John, 555. 

Macdonough's victory on Lake Cham- 
plain, 534. 

Madison, James, 498, 509, 516, 528. 

Magaw, Col., 235, 242, 246. 

Magellan, voyage of, 5-7, 

Maine, 537. 

Majoribanks, Maj., 476. 

Malmedy, Col., 475. 

Manhattan Island, the Dutch on, 24. 

Marblehead fisheries, Col. Glover's reg- 
iment, 216, 219, 259. 

Marcy, W. L., author of one of the most 
infamous remarks recorded in history, 

544- 
Maria, schooner, 240. 



INDEX. 



607 



Marion, Gen. Francis, carries on irregu- 
lar warfare against the British in 
South Carolina, 428, 458 ; called the 
Swamp Fox, 429 ; pursued by Tarle- 
ton, 429 ; in the engagement at Eutaw 
Springs, 475. 

Marshall, John, 523. 

Maryland, Catholic emigration to, 19; 
settlement of, 19; intolerance of the 
Protestants in, 20; Virginia and Mary- 
land, 20; Calvert's charter annulled, 
21 ; remains true to the Union, 561 ; 
invaded by Lee, 567. 

Mason and Slidell, 562. 

Massachusetts, the name, 30. 

Massachusetts Bay, province of, its 
settlement, 30-32; form of govern- 
ment, 31 ; Episcopacy not tolerated, 
31 ; its charter threatened, 32; colonial 
government coins money, 39 ; the char- 
ter annulled, 44, 45 ; becomes a royal 
province, 45, 46; political condition 
of, 46 ; alteration of its charter, 138, 
139 ; enforcement of obnoxious par- 
liamentary measures, 139 ; rebellion 
in, 142; Continental Congress de- 
clares the province absolved from 
allegiance to the crown, 155. 

Matthew, Gen., 244. 

Matuchen hills, 327. 

Manhood, Col., 269, 271. 

Manhood's artillery, 270. 

Maxwell's infantry driven at the Brandy- 
wine, 302, 305 ; engages the enemy at 
White Clay creek, 300. 

Maxwell's Virginia brigade, 327. 

Meade, Geti. G. G., 570. 

Megantic, Lake, 186. 

Memphis, battle of, 564. 

Mercer, Gen., 248, 249, 268. 

Merchant marine of United States, de- 
stroyed by idiotic legislation, 558. 

Merrimac and Monitor, 565. 

Mexican war, 549. 

Michigan, 539, 547. 

Middlebrook, N J., Washington's head- 
quarters at, 356. 



Middletown, N.J., 343, 344. 

Mifflin, Gen., 171, 490, 501 ; arrives at 
the American camp at Long Island, 
216; directed to cover the American 
retreat, 217; mistakes Washington's 
orders, 218; retreats, 219; his inef- 
ficiency as quartermaster-general, 
338; concerned in the plot against 
Washington, 338. 

Milan and Berlin decrees, 526. 

Militia in the colonies, 146. 

Military task of the United States in the 
Civil War, 558. 

Military dictatorship, suggested to 
Washington by Col. Lewis Nicola, 
484-486. 

" Millions for defence, not one cent for 
tribute," 514. 

Millspring, battle of, 563. 

Mingo Indians, 359. 

Mississippi, 537. 

Mississippi, discovery of the, 50. 

Missouri, 537, 561, 563. 

Missouri compromise, 538, 549, 553. 

Mobile Bay, battle of, 573. 

Mohawks, Champlain attacks the, 11. 

Mohawk country, 72. 

Molucca islands, 7. 

Monckton, Col., 347. 

Monk's Corner, 478. 

Monmouth, battle of, 34I-350. 

Monroe, James, 261, 514, 536. 

Monroe doctrine, 536. 

Montcalm, successes of, 102; death of, 
122. 

Montgomery, Gen. Richard, notice of 
174, 175; leader of ex-pedition to 
Canada, 177 ; defection in his ranks, 
187; determines an assault in Que- 
bec, 192-194 ; surprises the enemy at 
Quebec, 195 ; death of, 195 ; his burial 
at Quebec, 198 ; his widow, 316. 

Montgomery, Maj., 465. 

Montreal, Iroquois attack on, in 1689, 
11; capitulation of, 123, 124. 

Montresor, Capt., 219. 

Monts, Sieur de, 9. 



608 



INDEX. 



Morgan, Gen. Daniel, 226; joins the 
Continental army at Cambridge, 173 ; 
leads an attack on Quebec, 196 ; com- 
pelled to surrender, 197 ; sent by 
Washington to gain possession of 
Bemis' Heights, 317; harasses Bur- 
goyne's right wing, 319 ; at Greene's 
command proceeds to Ninety-Six, 
432; Tarleton sets out to overtake 
him, 435, 436; takes post at the Cow- 
pens, 437 ; gains a victory over Tarle- 
ton at the Cowpens, 439 ; eludes Corn- 
wallis, 440 ; bafifles Cornwallis in his 
pursuit of Greene's army, 442, 443. 

Morgan's corps of riflemen, 309, 312. 

Morris, Gouverneur, minister to France, 

514- 

Morris, Robert, 265. 

Morristown, NJ., 247, 251, 272; Penn- 
sylvania line in winter quarters at, 
421. 

Moultrie, Col. William, 207. 

Mount Desert, receives its name from 
Champlain, 9. 

Mount Independence, 281. 

Mount Vernon, 125, 126. 

Mowatt, Lieut., orders the burning of 
Falmouth, 182. 

Muhlenberg's brigade, 305. 

Murray, Vans, minister to France, 515. 

Musgrave, Col., at the Chew house, 
Germantown, 327, 328. 

Napoleon I., 515, 521, 529, 534. 
Napoleon III., wishes to recognize 

Southern Confederacy, 559. 
Narragansetts, their fortress attacked by 

Gov. Winslow, 42. 
Nash, Gen., death of, 331. 
Nash's North Carolina brigade, 327, 

329- 
Nashville, battle of, 573. 
Natchez Indians, 10. 
Naval engagement on the Chesapeake, 

470, 
Naval victories of United States over 

Great Britain, 530-532, 



Navasink, N.J., 342. 

Navigation laws, 558. 

Nebraska bill, 552. 

New Amsterdam, Dutch population of, 
in 1664, 25 ; surrender of, to Col. Rich- 
ard Nichols, 26. 

New England, beginnings of, 27, 37 ; 
called North Virginia, 27 ; cessation of 
the exodus to, 36, 37 ; Indian depre- 
dations, 1675-78, 43. 

New England army, 155. 

New England confederacy, 37, 38. 

New France and the English colonies, 

S3. 

New Hampshire, set off from Massachu- 
setts, 34. 

New Hampshire grants, 153. 

New Haven, capture of, 363. 

New Haven colonies, 36; annexed to 
Connecticut, 40. 

New London, Conn., capture and de- 
struction of, 464, 465. 

New Mexico, 548, 551. 

New Netherlands, founding of, 24-26 ; 
war with the Indians, 1643-45, 25 ; 
Dutch West India Company, 25, 
overthrow of the Dutch government, 
25 ; English in, 26. 

New Orleans, French settlement of, 52 ; 
battle of, 535 ; captured by Farragut, 

564- 

New Rochelle, 229. 

New York City, Verrazzano's voyage, 8 ; 
Tories in, 167, 168 ; defences of, 208 ; 
evacuation of, 221-226 ; British ships 
open fire on the American works, 222 ; 
British effect capture of, 225 ; bay of 
New York, frozen, 372; British evac- 
uate, 487 ; triumphal entry of Ameri- 
can army, 487, 488; ceremonies at 
Washington's reception as president, 
502; increase of population, 539, 543. 

New York colony: see New Nether- 
lands. 

Newark, N.J., 248. 

Newburgh, N.Y., Washington rejoins 
the army at, 484. 



INDEX. 



609 



Newton inlet, 223. 

Newtown, N.Y., battle at, 359. 

Niagara, British post at, 352; proposed 
attack on, 358. 

Nichols, Col., 293. 

Nicholson, Commodore, 502. 

Nicola, Col. Lewis, makes extraordinary 
proposals to Washington regarding a 
dictatorship, 484, 485. 

Ninety-Six, District of, 385. 

Nixon's brigade, 283, 310. 

Non-importation agreement, 141, 142. 

Non-intercourse act, 528. 

Northcastle, 235 ; Andr6 arrives as a 
prisoner at, 409. 

Nook's hill, 199, 204. 

North, Z,^rrf, conciliating bills of, 339; 
his reception of the news of the down- 
fall of Yorktown, 483. 

Northern invasion, of 1777, 274. 

Northmen, i. 

Nullification, 516, 542. 

Ogden, Aaron, bearer of dispatches to 

Clinton, concerning Andre, 418. 
Oglethorpe, James, 52. 
O'Hara, Ge7r., 445. 
Ohio, Washington's expedition to the, 

66. 
Ohio Company, 64. 

Old South meeting-house, 45, 140, 183. 
Orangeburg, S.C., British army in, 461. 
Orders in Council, 526. 
Oregon, exploration of, 525; dispute 

with Great Britain about, 546. 
Oriskany, battle of, 287-291. 
Oswald, Col., at Monmouth, 346. 
Oswego, Fort, 103. 
Otis, James, Secretary of the Senate, 

SOS- 
Pacific ocean, discovery of the, 6; Drake 

and Cavendish in the, 12. 
Pacolet river, 432. 
Pakenham, Sir E., 534. 
Palisades, 247. 
Panic of 1837, commercial, 545. 



Paramus, Washiugton halts the army 

at, 349- 

Parker, Commodore Hyde, 355. 

Parker, Sir Peter, 206. 

Parker, Theodore, 551. 

Parliament, the Long, 37. 

Parties, rise of, 511. 

Patterson's brigade, 310. 

Patton's regiment, 345. 

Paulding, John, 407-409. 

Peace Democrats, 559. 

Peace, treaty of, 486. 

Peacock captures Epe^-vier, 531; cap- 
tures Nautilus, 532, 

Pea Ridge, battle of, 563. 

Peekskill, 236, 237, 279. 

Pell's Point, 229. 

Perm, William, Pennsylvania granted, 

15- 48, 49- 
Pennsylvania, charter of, 49. 
Pennsylvanians, attitude of, toward the 

American cause, 249. 
Pequot war, 35. 

Percy, Lord, 151, 226, 232, 235, 243, 244. 
Perry, O. H., his victory on Lake Erie, 

533. 

Perryville, battle of, 568. 

Philadelphia, disquietude at, 258 ; Amer- 
ican army in, 287; reception of the 
news of the Brandywine disaster in, 
306; capture of, 309; Clinton aban- 
dons, 342; disaffection in, to the 
American cause, 373. 

Philip's, King, war, 41-43. 

Phillips, Gen., 280. 

Phillips, Wendell, 551. 

Pho:nix, 226, 242. 

Pickens, Col., 474, 475 ; at the battle of 
the Cowpens, 437-439- 

Pickering, Col., 151. 

Pierce, F., president, 552. 

Pigott, Sir Robert, 163, 351. 

Pilgrim Fathers, 28, 29. 

Pinckney, Col., 305, 382 ; abandons Fort 
Moultrie, 384. 

Pinckney, C. C, 514, 522. 

Pine-tree shillings, 39. 



610 



INDEX. 



Pine's bridge, 232, 236, 406. 

Pitcairn, Maj., 149. 

Pluckamin, N J., 272. 

Plymouth, Dermer lands at, 1620, 27. 

Plymouth colony, growth of, from 1640 

to 1670, 29 ; Separatists settle, 29. 
Pocahontas, marriage of, to John Rolfe, 

15. 
Polk, J. K., president, 548. 
Polk, Gen. Leonidas, 563. 
Pomeroy, Seth, 143. 
Pompton, the Jersey line in winter 

quarters at, 421. 
Pontiac's war, 130. 
Pope, Gen. John, 564, 567. 
Population of United States in 1789, 

507; in 1815, 537; in i860 greater 

than that of Great Britain and Ireland, 

558. 
Port Hudson, 564. 

Port Royal, permanent settlement of, 9. 
Port Royal island, 381. 
Port Royal, 562. 
Porter, Gen. Fitz John, wrongly charged 

with misconduct at second battle of 

Bull Run, and shamefully treated, 567. 
President and Little Belt, 529. 
Porterfield, Col., 393, 394. 
Posey, Maj., 366. 
Poutrincourt, 9. 
Prescott, Col., fortifies Breed's Hill, 159, 

160. 
Prevost, Gen., ordered to Savannah, 355. 
Prevost, Dr., chaplain of Congress, 506. 
Prideaux, Gen., leads an expedition to 

Niagara, 116, 117. 
Princeton, N.J., 265; victory at, 267- 

273- 

Pringle, Capt., 238, 240, 

Prisoners, exchange of, 226. 

Proctor, Gen., 533. 

Progress of the United States, conditions 
of, 507- 

" Protection " of industries, 510, 541. 

Provincial congress assembles at Con- 
cord, 143. 

Puritans, 28. 



Putnam, Gen. Israel, 144, 159, 162, 210, 
226,258; his retreat to Harlem Heights, 
223, 224; his command in the Jerseys, 
236 ; in command at Philadelphia, 251, 

Putnam's Connecticut troops, stampede 
of, 222. 

Quakers in Boston, 38, 39. 

Quaker road, 268, 269. 

Quebec, siege of, 51, 118-120; capture 

of, 122; American attack on, 191- 

198 ; Arnold before, 205. 
Queenstown Heights, battle of, 533. 

Rahl, G<?«., 231, 244, 256; moves against 
the Americans on Chatterton's Hill, 
230; learns of a proposed movement 
by Washington, 260 ; death of, 263. 

Railroads, introduction of, 542. 

Raisin river, massacre at the, 533. 

Raleigh, Sir Walter, in Virginia, 12-14. 

Ramsey, Col., at Monmouth, 346. 

Ramsour's Mills, 441. 

Rapelye, Mrs., informs the British of the 
American retreat from Long Island, 
219. 

Raritan, 249, 342. 

Rawdon, Lord, reinforces Clinton, 383 ; 
posted at Camden, 390, 394, 395 ; in 
command of Cornwallis' army, 427 ; 
attacks Greene at Hobkirk's Hill, 459 ; 
evacuates Camden, 460; takes post 
at Orangeburg, S.C., 461; pursued 
by Greene and Lee, 461. 

Rawlings, Col., 245. 

Red Clay creek, 300. 

Red Hook, battery at, 2H. 

Reed, Col. Joseph, 248, 264, 373; his at- 
titude toward Arnold, 374. 

Reedy Fork, 450. 

Reformation, Protestant, 28. 

Reprisal, act of, 182. 

Republican party, old, 512 ; new, 554. 

Resaca, battle of, 573. 

Retreat through New Jersey, 247. 

Retreat from Ticonderoga, 281. 

Revenue acts of 1767, 134. 



INDEX. 



611 



Revolution, beginnings of the, 130; first 

great defensive campaign of the, 207. 
Rhode Island expedition, 300-352. 
Rhode Island, British evacuate, 368; 

settlement of, 33. 
Ribaut, Jean, 8. 

Richmond, capital of Southern Con- 
federacy, 561, 575. 
Riedesel, Baron, Hessian general, 276, 

281, 312, 317. 
Riedesel, Baroness, sufferings of, during 

Burgoyne's campaign, 322, 323. 
Riots, acts for the suppression of, 138. 
Roanoke island, Raleigh's attempt at 

settlement of, 13. 
Robinson, Col. Beverly, concerned in 

the Arnold treason, 402, 404; pleads 

for Andre's release, 415. 
Robinson house, 400, 412. 
Rochambeau, arrival of, 387, 388 ; joins 

Washington on the Hudson, 462; 

breaks camp, 463 ; at West Point, 464. 
Roebuck, 226, 242. 
Rosecrans, Gen. W. S., 568, 571. 
Rotation in office, 544. 
Royal commissioners, visit of the, 1664, 

40, 41. 
Royal Savage, 239. 
Rutledge, Edward, on committee for 

conference with Lord Howe, 220; 

governor of South Carolina, 382. 

St. Augustine, settled by Spaniards, 8. 

St. Clair, Gen. Arthur, 261, 501, 505; 
victorious at Princeton, 271 ; strange 
movements of, in the North, 278, 279; 
evacuates Ticonderoga, 280; arrives 
at Castleton, Vt., 282, 283; reaches 
Fort Edward, 283; constructs defen- 
sive works at Moses Creek, 284 ; de- 
feated by Indians near the Wabash, 

5"- 

Saint John, Canada, 242; invested by 
Gen. Montgomery, 177; capture of, 
187 ; besieged by Arnold, 189. 

St. Lawrence river, explored by Car- 
tier, 8. 



St. Leger, at Fort Stanwix, 288 ; plans 
ambuscade for Gen, Herkimer, 289 ; 
his Indian allies routed by Herkimer, 
290 ; continues siege of Fort Stanwix, 
291 : flight of, 295. 

St. Lucia, secret expedition to, 355. 

St. Simon, Marquis de, 467, 469, 484. 

Salem, seat of government in Massachu- 
setts, 138. 

Salem, N.C., 446. 

Saluda river, 460. 

San Salvador, Columbus' first voyage 
to, 4. 

Sandy Hook, 342. 

Saratoga, first battle near, 309-314; 
second battle of, 316-320. 

Savannah, Ga., captured by the British, 
356; the Americans and French re- 
pulsed at, 369. 

Scannel, Col. Alexander, 218 ; taken 
prisoner by the Hessians, 473. 

Schenectady, massacre at, 51. 

Schofield, Gen., 573, 575. 

Schuyler, Gen. Philip, 257, 337 ; account 
of, 166; appointed commander of 
New York, 168 ; holds a conference 
with the Six Nations at Albany, 174; 
at Ticonderoga, 175 ; blamed for fail- 
ure of the Canada expedition, 205 ; at 
Fort Edward, 278; sends Arnold to 
Fort Stanwix, 292; superseded by 
Gates, 297, 398 ; slighted by Gates, 
309; meeting between Schuyler and 
Burgoyne, 324. 

Schuyler mansion destroyed, 321. 

Scott, Dred, 555, 

Scott, Gen. Winfield, 533, 549, 552, 561. 

Screw propellers, 542. 

Sea of darkness, 3. 

Secession of slave states, 559. 

Sedition laws, 515. 

Self-government in the United States, 
508. 

Seminole Indians, 10. 

Seneca Indians, 359. 

Separatists, or Brownists, 29. 

Sevier, Col., 425. 



612 



INDEX. 



Seward, W. H., 552. 
Shannon and Chesapeake, 531. 
Sharpshooters in the Continental army, 

173- 

Shays' rebellion, 494, 495, 497. 

Shelby, Col., 425. 

Sheldon, Col., 410. 

Shenandoah valley, Jackson's campaign 
in, 566 ; Early's campaign in, 574. 

Sherman, Roger, 505. 

Sherman, Gen. W. T., 568, 572, 573. 

Sherrard's Ford, 442. 

Shiloh, battle of, 564. 

Shippen, Miss Margaret, and Benedict 
Arnold, 373, 374. 

Shirley, Maj.-Gen., 98, 99. 

Slavery, in the Virginia colony, 16; 
growth of, 537. 

Slaves, emancipation of, 569. 

Slave trade, illegal renewal of, 555. 

Slidell and Mason, 562. 

Smaliwood, Gen., 330, and the Mary- 
land militia, 307; retarded in a move- 
ment to co-operate with Wayne, 308. 

Smallwood's battalion, 231; desperate 
fighting of, 213, 214. 

Smith, John, his adventures at James- 
town, 14 ; explores coast from Penob- 
scot to Cape Cod, 27. 

Smith, Joshua, agent for Arnold in his 
negotiations with Andre, 403, 404; 
acts as Andre's guide, 405, 406; 
arrested, 416; tried for complicity in 
Arnold's plot, 420. 

Smith, Col., wounded, 150, 

Somers, Sir George, shipwrecked at the 
Bermudas, 14. 

South, exhausted state of the, 433. 

South Carolina, Slavery in, 48 ; charac- 
ter of the inhabitants, 380 ; topogra- 
phy and natural features of, 391 ; 
Greene and Rawdon in, 458-462; 
nullification, 542; secession, 559. 

Southern campaign, 368-370. 

South Sea, 6. 

Spain unfriendly to United States, 507 ; 
sells Florida to United States, 536. 



Spanish colonies, revolt of, 536. 

Spaniards, in Mexico, Peru, and the 
West Indies, 7. 

Speedwell's Iron Works, 453. 

Spicer, Maj., 303. 

Spoils system, 544. 

Spottsylvania, battle of, 572. 

Spyt den Duivel creek, 245. 

Squatter sovereignty, 553. 

Stamp Act, 130, 131 ; opposition to it in 
Virginia, 132. 

Stark, John, 158, 162; his attack on 
Trenton, 261 ; in the battle of Ben- 
nington, 293-295. 

Staten island, 463 ; British fleet at, 217. 

Steamboats, invention of, 537. 

Stedman, Col., on the conciliatory 
measures of Lord North, 339. 

Stephens, A., vice-president of Confed- 
erate states, 560. 

Sterling, Col., 244. 

Steuben, Baron, 505 ; drills the Ameri- 
can army, 339 ; before Yorktown, 479. 

Stevens, Gen., 395, 396, 441, 449; at the 
battle of Guilford Court-house, 452. 

Stewart, Col., 453 ; at the battle of Mon- 
mouth, 346, 347. 

Stickney, Col., 293. 

Stirling, Lord, 210, 226, 236, 242, 249, 
250 ; checks the British attack at Long 
Island, 211; surrender of, 214; his 
command of the left wing at Mon- 
mouth, 347. 

Stone Mill, at Newport, 2. 

Stone River, battle of, 568. 

Stonington, Conn., bombarded, 181. 

Stony Point, 236, 464 ; capture of, 361 ; 
Americans regain, 364-367; evacu- 
ated, 367. 

Stowe, Mrs. H. B., 551. 

Stuart, Col., British commander in 
South Carolina, 461 ; takes post at 
Eutaw Springs, 474 ; defeated at Eu- 
taw Springs, 475-478. 

Stuart dynasty, fall of the, 45. 

Sub-treasury system, 545. 

Sugar Hill, 279. 



INDEX, 



613 



Sullivan, Gen. John, 205, 208, 226, 228, 
254, 299; taken prisoner, 212; carries 
message from Lord Howe to Con- 
gress, 220 ; on the march to Trenton, 
260; commands the right wing of the 
American army, 302 ; in the battle of 
Brandywine, 304; at Germantown, 
327, 328 ; in the Rhode Island cam- 
paign, 351; retreats, 352; devastates 
the Indian country in western New 
York, 356-359. 

Sumner, Charles, 552, 554. 

Sumter, Gen. Thomas, 394, 395, 458; 
account of, 391, 392; exploits in the 
swamps of South Carolina, 392; 
eludes Tarleton, 398; threatens the 
British posts in Ninety-Six, 429; de- 
feats Tarleton at the Cowpens, 430. 

Sunbury, Ga., captured, 356. 

Talleyrand, Prince, tries to levy black- 
mail on the United States, 514. 

Tallmadge, Maj., induces Jameson to 
recall the messenger having Andre in 
charge, 409, 410 ; holds Andre a pris- 
oner, 411. 

Tappan, NJ., Washington at, 390. 

Tariffs, 541. 

Tarleton, Lieut.-CoL, 381; remarks on 
the Southern campaign, 379 ; in North 
Carolina, 386 ; charges and routs 
the militia, 396; surprises Sumter's 
camp, 397, 398 ; endeavors to entrap 
Marion, 428, 429; attacks Gen. Sum- 
ter at Black Stock Hill, 429, 430; sets 
out to head off Morgan, 435, 436 ; en- 
gages Morgan at the Cowpens, 438, 
439 ; defeated, 440 ; skirmish with Lee, 
451 ; makes a raid in Virginia, 458 ; 
his criticism of Cornwallis at York- 
town, 474. 

Tartar, 226. 

Taxation, direct and indirect, 510. 

Taylor, Ge}t. Zachary, 548 ; president, 

550- 
Tea-party, Boston, 136, 137. 
Tocumseh, 529, 533. 



Ten Broeck, Gen., 319. 

Tennessee, 538. 

Texas, annexation of, 547. 

Thames, batde of the, 533. 

Thomas, Gen. G. H., 563, 571, 573. 

Thomas, Gen. John, march to Dorches- 
ter Heights, 200. 

Throg's Neck, 226, 227. 

Throg's Point, 229. 

Thunderer, 238. 

Ticonderoga, 144, 238, 242, 274; battle 
of, 108-110; capture of, 152-154; de- 
fence of, 237; fall of, 277-281 ; recap- 
tured, 314 ; evacuation of, 325. 

Tilghman, Tench, 233. 

Tippecanoe, battle of, 529. 

Tobacco cultivation in the colony of 
Virginia, 16. 

Tories hanged at King's Mountain, 426, 
427. 

Trent, affair of the, 562. 

Trenton, N.J., Washington at, 249; 
victory of the Americans at, 255-263 ; 
reception of Washington at, 501, 
502. 

Tripolitan war, 525. 

Triumph, 486. 

Troublesome creek, 450, 451. 

Trumbull, Col. John, 172, 279. 

Trumbull, Joseph, commissary general 
of the Continental army, 173. 

Truxton, Capt., his naval victories over 
the French, 514. 

Tryon, Gov., Tory principles of, 168; 
ravages Connecticut by Clinton's or- 
ders, 362, 363. 

Turkey creek, 435, 440. 

Turtle bay, 222. 

Tyler, John, president, 545, 

Uncle Tom's Cabin, 551. 

United States and Macedonian, 530. 

Utah, 551. 



Valcour island, battle of, 237-242. 
Valentine's Hill. 228. 



614 



INDEX. 



Valley Forge, Continental army at, 331- 
338; breaks camp at, 342; encamp- 
ment at, 370. 

Van Buren, Martin, 545, 550. 

Van Dorn, Gen., 568. 

Van Wart, Isaac, one of Andre's cap- 
tors, 407-409. 

Varick, Col., 309. 

Varnum, Gen., distress of his troops, 

333- 

Vaughan, Gen., 315, 361. 

Venango, Washington's mission to, 64. 

Vermont, disputed territory, 152; ad- 
mitted to the Union, 538. 

Verplanck's Point, fort at, 360, 405. 

Verrazzano, in New York harbor, 8. 

Vespucci, Amerigo, 5. 

Vicksburg, 564, 568, 570, 571. 

Vikings, I. 

Ville de Paris, 471. 

Vinland, 2. 

Viomenil, Baron de, 480. 

Virginia, the English in, 12; form of 
government of the colony of, 17; 
under Charles I., 18 ; James I.'s code 
of laws for, 18; cavaliers of, 20, 22; 
population in 1670, 21 ; under Charles 
II., 21, 22; Bacon's rebellion, 22; po- 
litical condition between 1675 and 
1775, 23 ; the frontier of, infested by 
Indians, 10G-102; the House of Bur- 
gesses protests against the measures 
of pai'liameitt, 130 ; proceedings in re- 
gard to Boi'on Poit bill, 138 ; dissolu- 
tion of the assembly, 138, 139; Corn- 
wallis and Lafayette in, 457, 458 ; reso- 
lutions of 1798, 516 ; its importance to 
the Confederacy, 561. 

Vulture, ship, 402-405. 

Waldecker, 229. 

Wallace, Sir James, 315. 

Wallpeck, N.j., 252. 

War, second, with Great Britain, 528- 

535- 
War vessels fitted out to check British 
depredations, 181. 



Ward, Gen. Artemas, 143, 152, 159, 161. 

Warner, Col. Seth, 154, 294. 

Warren, James, 492. 

Warren, Joseph, gives warning of Gen. 
Gage's intended raid, 149. 

Warren tavern, 307. 

Washington, Augustine, 57. 

Washington, George, childhood and 
youth, 55 ; ancestry of, 55 ; his edu- 
cation, 56; at Hobby's school, 57; his 
mother, 58 ; compiles a code of mor- 
als and manners, 61 ; acquaintance 
with Miss Grimes, 62; surveys the 
Shenandoah valley, 63 ; appointed 
public surveyor, 63 ; first campaign of, 
65 ; surrenders at Fort Necessity, 67 ; 
invited to join Braddock's staff, 71 ; 
his rebuke of Braddock, 78 ; illness 
of, at the Youghiogheny, 82; rejoins 
Braddock, 84 ; returns to Mount Ver- 
non after Braddock's defeat, 95 ; visits 
Boston in 1756, 98, 99; his efforts to 
raise militia for frontier defence, loi ; 
relations with Gov. Dinwiddle, 106; 
collects militia for Bouquet's expedi- 
tion, no; meets Martha Custis, no; 
ordered to Williamsburg, no; his 
marriage engagement, in; arrives at 
Fort Cumberland, in; opens a road 
to Bouquet's headquarters, in; 
elected a member of the House of 
Burgesses, 112; declines to absent 
himself from his military duties to 
attend, 112; impatient at the delays 
in the Bouquet expedition, 112; his 
plan of march adopted, 112 ; at the 
capture of Fort Duquesne, 115; re- 
tires from military life, 115; his 
marriage, 116; in the House of 
Burgesses, 124; at home, 124- 
129; daily life at Mount Vernon, 
128 ; instructs the Virginia militia, 
146; commander-in-chief, 154-159; 
entertains hopes of reconciliation 
with Great Britain, 155 ; appointed 
commander-in-chief, 156; joins the 
army at Cambridge, x66; journey to 



INDEX, 



615 



Boston, i66 ; takes command of the 
army, i68, 169; strengthens the de- 
fences of the camp, 172; organizes 
the army, 172; selects Arnold for 
commander of expedition to Canada, 
176; censures Ethan Allen, 179; ac- 
cepts the proffered services of Henry 
Knox, a Boston bookseller, 183; la- 
ments the lack of patriotic sentiment 
in the army, 184; his confidence in 
Arnold, 185 ; commendatory letter to 
Arnold, 191 ; his plan for raising siege 
of Boston, 199, 200; at Dorchester 
Heights, 201 ; exhorts the soldiers, 
202; declines to receive a commu- 
nication from certain inhabitants of 
Boston, 203; fortifies Nook's Hill, 
and hastens the evacuation of Boston, 
204; receives the thanks of Congress 
for his skilful management of the 
campaign, 204; first great defensive 
campaign, 207-273 ; at the battle of 
Long Island, 211-215 ; witnesses Lord 
Stirling's defeat, 213,214; his anxious 
vigil on the niglit after the battle, 215 ; 
cause of the defeat at Long Island, 
215; holds a council of war, 217; 
superintends the embarkation from 
Long Island, 218 ; censures Gen. Mif- 
flin, 218 ; his reputation enhanced by 
the skilful management of the Ameri- 
can retreat, 220; orders removal of 
stores from New York, 222; enraged 
at the cowardice of some of his troops, 
223 ; establishes his headquarters at 
Harlem Heights, 224 ; addresses Con- 
gress on the situation, 225; recom- 
mends a reorganization of the army, 
225 ; decamps from the island of 
Manhattan, 228 ; divides the army 
into four divisions, 228 ; Congress 
passes a resolution requesting Wash- 
ington to maintain the obstructions 
of the Hudson, 228 ; encamps at 
White Plains, 229 ; strengthens his 
position, 232; the battle of White 
Plains, 232-234; his care for the 



wounded, 232 ; retires to Northcastle, 
233, 234 ; on Howe's plans, 234 ; favors 
abandonment of Fort Washington, 
235 ; letter to Gen. Greene on the de- 
fence of Fort Washington, 235 ; his 
instructions to Gen. Lee on the de- 
fence of the Hudson, 236; places 
Gen. Heath in command of the Hud- 
son, 237 ; at Fort Lee, 242 ; his anx- 
iety for the safety of Fort Washing- 
ton, 243 ; a witness of the assault on 
Fort Washington, 245, 246 ; his emo- 
tions at the slaughter, 246 ; instructions 
to Magaw, 246; moves to the Hack- 
ensack, 247, 248 ; orders Gen. Lee to 
join the main army, 248; retreats to 
Brunswick, N.J., 248, 249; reaches 
Trenton, 249; considers the expedi- 
ency of a retreat to Virginia, and as 
a last resort across the Alleghanies, 
249, 250; crosses the Delaware, 251; 
invested with absolute military author- 
ity by Congress, 255 ; strength of his 
army at the Delaware, 256; plans 
attack on the Hessian posts, 258 ; re- 
ceives a letter from Gates, 259 ; critical 
situation of the army, 260; gains a 
victory at Trenton, 261-263 I induces 
the re-enlistment of expired volunteers, 
265 ; crosses the Delaware, 266 ; wishes 
to follow up the victory at Trenton 
by a vigorous move, 266; his situa- 
tion before the battle of Princeton, 
267 ; makes a night march, 268 ; his 
plans for surprising Cornwallis, 269; 
rallies Mercer's brigade, 270; holds 
a council of war, 271 ; pursues the 
enemy from Princeton, 271 ; the 
"American Fabius," 273 ; receives the 
news of the fall of Ticonderoga, 278 ; 
sends reinforcements to Schuyler, 279 ; 
takes post at the Hudson Highlands, 
279 ; his efforts to frustrate Burgoyne, 
283; sends Arnold to Fort Stanwix, 
284; sets out with the army for the 
Delaware, 285 ; visits Philadelphia, 
285; meets Lafayette, 286; cheered 



616 



INDEX. 



by news of the battle of Bennington, 
295 ; seeks to engage Howe before 
Philadelphia, 300; addresses the 
army, 300; concentrates his forces 
at Chadd's Ford, 301, 302; a messen- 
ger brings him the intelligence of 
Cornwallis' flank movement at the 
Brandywine, 303 ; directs Greene to 
cover the retreat of the right wing, at 
Brandywine, 305 ; retreats to German- 
town, 306; decides to offer battle to 
Howe, 306; crosses the Schuylkill, 
307; Howe eludes him, and marches 
to Philadelphia, 309; encamps at 
Pott's Grove, 325 ; advances on the 
British at Germantown, 325, 326; his 
plan of attack, 327 ; encamped at Val- 
ley Forge, 331-338; Gates' schemes 
against him, 331 ; complains to Con- 
gress of the inefficiency of the supply 
department,333 ; describes to Congress 
the deplorable condition of the troops, 
333-335 ; replies to criticisms on the 
inactivity of the army, 334, 335 ; sends 
out foraging expeditions, 336 ; encour- 
ages the soldiers, 337 ; magnanimous 
conduct of, 337 ; his Fabian policy, 338 ; 
sends detachments to harass Clin- 
ton's rear, 342 ; breaks camp at Val- 
ley Forge, 342 ; gives Lee command 
of the advance corps, 343 ; informed 
of Lee's retreat at Monmouth, 345 ; 
dissatisfaction with Lee's course, 345 ; 
stormy interview with Lee, 346, 347 ; 
comment on Lee's conduct, 348; 
places Lee under arrest, 349, 350; 
takes up line of march to the Hudson, 
349; encamps at King's Ferry, 351; 
plans for co-operation with the French, 
351 ; takes post at Middlebrook, N.J., 
356; deplores sectional feeling, 357; 
his plans for the campaign of 1779, 
357. 358 ; perplexed by Clinton's move- 
ments, 362; operations against Stony 
Point, 364-366 ; abandons Stony Point, 
367, 368 ; contemplates a combined 
attack with D'Estaing on New York, 



368 ; sends troops for the defence c f 
Georgia and South Carolina, 369 ; 
makes a new disposition of his forces, 
369 ; levies on New Jersey for supplies, 
371 ; reprimands Arnold at the bid- 
ding of a court-martial, 378 ; solicitude 
for South Carolina, 379 ; on the de- 
fences of Charleston, 382, 383 ; con- 
gratulates the army on the arrival of 
the French allies, 388 ; gives up project 
against New York, 388 ; takes post at 
Tappan, 390 ; learns of Gates' defeat 
in the South, 399; confers with Ro- 
chambeau at Hartford, 399; returns 
to the Hudson, 411; visits West Point 
to see Arnold, 413; hears of Ar- 
nold's treason, 414; receives a com- 
munication from Arnold giving the 
motives of his conduct, 415 ; directs 
Greene to move the army to King's 
Ferry, 415, 416 ; sends Andre under 
guard to camp, 416 ; appealed to, in 
Andre's behalf, 417 ; communicates 
with Clinton, on ^ndr6's case, 418; 
his sympathy for Andre, 419 ; selects 
Greene for the Southern command, 
422 ; his view of the situation in the 
South, 433 ; cheered by the ratification 
of the Articles of Confederation, 434 ; 
his march against Cornwallis, in Vir- 
ginia, 462-468 ; confers with Rocham- 
beau, 462 ; plan for co-operating with 
the Count de Grasse, 462; prepara- 
tions for Virginia expedition, 463; 
encamps at Haverstraw, 464; with 
Rochambeau at West Point, 464 ; in 
Philadelphia, 466 ; hears of the arrival 
of the French fleet under the Count 
de Grasse, 467; communicates with 
the Count de Grasse, 467; in Balti- 
more, 468 ; entertains French officers 
at Mount Vernon, 468; arrives at 
Williamsburg, 470; demurs at the 
Count de Grasse's intention of putting 
out to sea, 471 ; interview with De 
Grasse, 471 ; in front of Yorktown, 
473; opens the attack on Yorktown, 



INDEX. 



617 



479 ; perilous position of, during the 
attack on the redoubts, 480, 481 ; sub- 
mits terms to Cornwallis, 482 ; visits 
Philadelphia in 1783, 484 ; approached 
with dishonorable propositions by Col. 
Nicola, 484-486 ; leads the army into 
New York City, 487, 488 ; takes leave 
of the army, 488, 489 ; adjusts his ac- 
counts with the treasury, 489; for- 
mally delivers up his commission to 
Congress, 491 ; enthusiastically re- 
ceived on his journey home, 490 ; re- 
turns to Mount Vernon, 491 ; his 
speech on resigning his command, 
491 ; his views of the confederation, 
492 ; in favor of a strong national gov- 
ernment, 493; consulted by commis- 
sioners of Maryland and Virginia 
relative to navigation regulations, 493 ; 
a delegate to the Federal convention, 
496; his influence in public affairs, 
496 ; president of the Federal conven- 
tion, 497 ; at Mount Vernon, 498 ; his 
comments on the results of the Fed- 
eral convention, 498 ; chosen president 
of the United States, 499-501 ; notified 
of his election, 500; journey to the 
seat of government, 501 ; ceremonies 
at his reception in New York, 502; 
his inauguration, 504-506 ; suppresses 
whiskey insurrection, 511 ; his policy, 
512; rebukes Genet, 513; abused 
by the newspapers, 513; refuses 
to be candidate for a third term, 
513; appointed to command the 
army, with rank of lieutenant-general, 
514; life at Mount Vernon, 517; his 
death, 520; favored abolition of 
slavery, 521 ; universal grief at his 
death, 521. 

Washington, Lawrence, 56. 

Washington, Martha, no, in. 

Washington, Col. William, 261, 439, 452 ; 
at the battle of the Cowpens, 437; 
at the battle of Eutaw Springs, 474- 

477. 
Washington, city, how its site was de- 



termined, 510; federal government 
moved thither, 523 ; captured by 
British, 534. 

Wasp and Frolic, 530; Reindeer, 531; 
Avofi, 531. 

Wateree, Sumter's corps captures re- 
doubt at the, 397. 

Wateree river and ferry, 394, 395. 

Watts, Maj., 289. 

Wayne, Gen. Anthony, 304 ; opposes 
Knyphausen at Chadd's Ford, 305, 
306; attempts to get in the rear of 
Howe's army, 307, 308 ; his detach- 
ment attacked, 308 ; advises an attack 
on Clinton, 341, 342; joins the ad- 
vance corps, 342; captures Stony 
Point, 364-366 ; defeats the Indians 
near Toledo, 511, 

Webster, Col., 453, 454. 

Webster, Daniel, 543, 546, 552. 

Weedon's brigade, 301. 

West, discovery of the great, 49, 50. 

Western states, settlement of, 539. 

West Virginia, 561. 

Westchester county, N.Y., 463. 

West Point, 237, 369, 463, 464 ; Wash- 
ington takes measures for the protec- 
tion of, 362 ; Arnold assigned to com- 
mand, 390. 

Whig party, rise of, 541. 

Whigs, attitude of, as to reconciliation, 
220. 

Whipple, ComjHodore, 382; before 
Charleston, 384. 

Whiskey insurrection, 510. 

White Clay creek, 300. 

White Plains, American army moves 
toward, 226-229; Americans encamp 
at, 229; battle of, 230-234; British 
retire from, 234. 

Whitney, Eli, 537. 

Whittier, J, G., 543. 

Wilderness, battle of the, 572. 

Wilkes, Capt., 562. 

Wilkinson, Gen., 314, 324, bearer of a 
message from Gates to Washington, 
252; Lee explains his plans to, 252; 



618 



INDEX. 



his views of Lee's conduct, 254, 255 ; 
escapes capture by the party who 
made Lee prisoner, 254 ; his memoirs, 
258. 

Willett, Col., makes a successful sortie 
at Fort Stanwix, 291. 

Williams, Maj., captured, 318. 

Williams, David, one of Andre's cap- 
tors, 407. 

Williams, Col. James, 425, 426. 

Williams, Col. Otho, commands rear- 
guard of Greene's army, 447 ; evades 
Cornwallis, 447 ; at the batde of Eutaw 
Springs, 475, 476. 

Williams, Roger, 33. 

Williamsburg, allies encamp at, 472. 

Wilmington, N.C., 442 ; Cornvi'allis halts 
at, 456. 

Wilmot Proviso, 549. 

Winchester, Gen., defeated at the river 
Raisin, 533. 



Winchester, Va., threatened Indian at- 
tack on, 100. 

Winnsborough, N.C., Cornwallis at, 428. 

Winthrop, John, at Saybrook, Conn., 35. 

Wisconsin, 550. 

Wolfe, Gen., 116; expedition of, to 
Quebec, 118-120. 

Wolfe's Cove, 188. 

Writs of assistance, 131. 

Wyoming massacre, 352, 353. 

X. Y. Z. dispatches, 514. 

Yadkin river, 422, 444. 

" Yankee doodle," 151. 

Yeardley, George, governor of James- 
town, 16. 

Yorktown, Cornwallis takes post at, 458 ; 
fortifications of, 472; opening of 
the siege, 479 ; capture of British re- 
doubts, 480, 481 ; Cornwallis capitu- 
lates, 482 ; rejoicings at the fall of, 483. 



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